Gabriel Theobaldt seemed to be as stupid as he was large... of course, that wasn't saying much for his intelligence. He might have thought he was being silent as he cleared the treeline, but the simple fact of the matter is that it is virtually impossible for someone of his size and physique to be completely silent when they're walking around on foliage. His feet still thudded against the earth, and unbenowst to him, Ivye was quite aware of his prescence as he walked up behind her.
A sharp breeze brushed against her neck as Gabriel raised his sword to swing it, and Ivye took the opportunity to deftly (at least, as deftly as someone of her weight could) roll to the side and out of the way of the sword. The blade caught the edge of her cape, slicing a small fragment of the bottom portion away, but Ivye herself evaded the attack unscathed.
She took no time in returning to her feet, her pigmentless eyes gazing up toward Gabriel and a faint smirk appearing on the corner of her mouth.
"Well, well, well," Ivye mused, "Funny running into you here, isn't it. Seems like you've earned yourself quite the reputation, Gabriel. Not bad... for a pathetic Terran. Thought you were going to add me to that list, didn't you? I hate to tell you this, but Terrans like you... they aren't capable of defeating a Methuselah like myself."
Her fingers slowly slipped into her pack and wrapped around one of the many cylindrical objects within. Discretely removing the object from her pack, she dropped it to the ground and kicked it away from them, as if preparing room for them to fight it out.
"That's why we're the superior species. You? Well, you're truly just an outcast. Your Terrans? They think you're a monster. And... well... let's face it, Gabe... you simply don't have what it takes to compete with us Methuselah. It must be horrible to know that nobody wants you around... nobody wants you alive. But you won't have to worry much longer, dear Gabriel. I'll fix it for you."
Ivye's finger slipped inside the pin that she was still concealing inside her cloak. Terrans were such idiotic creatures. He probably didn't even know what was coming. Unfortunately for Ivye, there was another factor that she hadn't taken into consideration. She had failed to kill the Terran that had been hiding inside the barracks. This realization only dawned on her as four loud shots rang out from directly behind her.
"NO!" Ivye shrieked loudly as the first bullet pierced her in the shoulder, causing her to inadvertantly pull the pin she had been fingering on the grenade. She didn't have time to realize that the pin had been pulled, nor did she had time to drop the object.
Terrans cannot defeat Methuselah! We are the superior species! I will not be killed by a mere mortal!
The second shot connected, hitting her directly in the back of the head and killing her instantly. Ivye began to topple forward, but didn't make it more than a few inches before the grenade that was buried beneath the light fabric of her cloak was set off, completely incinerating her body in the blast and sending shrapnel off in every direction. The only thing that remained of Ivye Dewley was her daypack, which had been kicked off to the side sometime prior.
FEMALE STUDENT NO. 04 - IVYE DEWLEY - DECEASED
Them vs. You vs. Me
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.
-
AtomicWaffle†
- Posts: 230
- Joined: Sun Jan 27, 2019 6:55 am
Unfortunately the poor little thing was able to dodge his attack, owed to his large size and poor maneuverablity. He really needed those grenades. Judging from the explosion inside the barracks, they would be quite useful to him. As he wound up to attack her once more, he was suprised to see that she was already... dead...
"What the fuck?!"
It seemed... she was shot in the head. A strange stupor hung in the air. Where was the shooter? Gabriel looked around, and the air was clear. He had... he had survived? He looked at the coat, and the bullets barely even grazed him, cutting up a small piece of fabric. Now, he could see his gun-toting attacker. Adam Dodd. Winner of Survival of the Fittest version one. Gabriel had a sword. He lay on the ground. It was Jason Foley, all over again. The guy had no chance. His very presence was almost as pathetic as the silly dialouge that girl had given him right before she went and got her head blown apart.
Yes, yes, I have the upper hand, Adam! You took me by suprise before, but not this time, I promise you!
You just don't get it, do you Gabriel? Gabriel... Hmm. Is that what I should even call you?
What the fuck do you want?
Do you know who I am? I am Gabriel Theobaldt. You are Gabriel Theobaldt. But we are NOT the same person. You are a deranged, maniacal loony hell-bent on wreaking as much havoc as he can, and for what? Some kind of sick game? You won't win. You can't! You're a physically and mentally crippled idiot who has no real bearing on reality and whose survival instinct rivals that of a Japanese Kamikaze Pilot! I tried reason, I tried directing you somewhere useful and you threw it all away. I tried to help people, I tried to bury YOU, to keep you away from this world. What did I get? My best friend betrayed me. My father attacked me. My brother won't even talk to me anymore... the only reason my mother even tries to bring up any form of conversation with you is because she's desperately holding on to the possibility of me, her old son, coming back to her! But because of these terrorists, because of your actions here, and because you were too bloodthirsty to even listen to your own conscience... you have sealed your own fate. Karl Van Buren, Troy McCann, Jason Foley, Gabriel Theobaldt... these victims of your insanity will soon be able to rest in peace.
What are you talking about?
We are one. You are my rage, embodied. I let you take over, and you drove me mad. The reason I stayed so depressed after all of those years... I was trying to supress you. I couldn't hold up. Then, you got on this island and I could only hope to quell - my - urges. Dominica Shapiro... That was as close as I could get. Even then it sickens me the little alliance we proposed. You are nothing more than a figment of my imagination, a mere shred of my personality that took over and never let go. Everything you've done on this island has been in vain. And now you've made the biggest mistake of all.
What?!
He twitched. The real Gabriel was once again in control, snapped back into a harsh reality. What he saw himself do... was too much to live with. As he looked down, he saw the grenade on the ground, in Ivye's dead hand. Tears streamed down his face. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
I... I should've been there for him. I should have never abandoned him, when he needed me the most...
"I'm sorry, Shane."
A large, violent explosion rocked the barracks, and pulverized Gabriel's standing form. His flesh was turned to a fine red mist, the sheer explosive power from the collar and grenade thoroughly reducing him to nothing but a few bloody shreds here and there.
The sword that Gabriel held was thrown from the explosion. That sword led to the deaths of Jason Foley, the tormented hockey player, and Troy McCann, the 'gangsta' who only really wanted to fit in. It flew and embedded itself in the ground, nearly missing Adam Dodd. That sword, a sword built for a knight... it belonged in the hands of a hero, an honorable man, a good man. Not a monster.
Ivye Dewley's grenades, those horrific tools of destruction, finally served a good purpose. Gabriel was dead.
~
This all happened within the span of a few seconds, and to an observer... well...
Shane Theobaldt watched the television, watched as his... brother... was preparing to tear apart his latest victim, and then... he stopped. He just stood there, looking at the grenade, and weeping.
"I'm sorry, Shane."
Those words echoed through the 17 year old's mind, as the explosion echoed throughout the island. It took a moment, but he understood now, after so long... It wasn't Gabriel, really, who was playing this sick game. His brother wasn't in control. It explains why he was so depressed and so detatched those years... it wasn't really the world Gabriel had to protect Shane from. Gabriel knew he could be like this, and he was trying to protect his brother, his family... everyone... from himself. He had paid the ultimate price... but no one had to suffer by his hand anymore.
"I know Gabriel. Wherever you are... thanks."
Shane had been watching the show consistently for almost three days straight, recording it, watching Gabriel. He had seen all Gabriel had done. Jason Foley, Troy McCann... and Karl Van Buren.
A small necklace, with a dark purple pendant lay underneath the Television, thrown angrily, sadly at the screen. Shane leaned down to pick it up. A teardrop pattered against the pendant. He shouldn't abandon the two he'd lost to the game.
The necklace once more hung from his neck. He turned off the television. There was no point in watching anymore.
"Gabriel, Karl... I won't forget you."
B08 - GABRIEL THEOBALDT - DECEASED
"What the fuck?!"
It seemed... she was shot in the head. A strange stupor hung in the air. Where was the shooter? Gabriel looked around, and the air was clear. He had... he had survived? He looked at the coat, and the bullets barely even grazed him, cutting up a small piece of fabric. Now, he could see his gun-toting attacker. Adam Dodd. Winner of Survival of the Fittest version one. Gabriel had a sword. He lay on the ground. It was Jason Foley, all over again. The guy had no chance. His very presence was almost as pathetic as the silly dialouge that girl had given him right before she went and got her head blown apart.
Yes, yes, I have the upper hand, Adam! You took me by suprise before, but not this time, I promise you!
You just don't get it, do you Gabriel? Gabriel... Hmm. Is that what I should even call you?
What the fuck do you want?
Do you know who I am? I am Gabriel Theobaldt. You are Gabriel Theobaldt. But we are NOT the same person. You are a deranged, maniacal loony hell-bent on wreaking as much havoc as he can, and for what? Some kind of sick game? You won't win. You can't! You're a physically and mentally crippled idiot who has no real bearing on reality and whose survival instinct rivals that of a Japanese Kamikaze Pilot! I tried reason, I tried directing you somewhere useful and you threw it all away. I tried to help people, I tried to bury YOU, to keep you away from this world. What did I get? My best friend betrayed me. My father attacked me. My brother won't even talk to me anymore... the only reason my mother even tries to bring up any form of conversation with you is because she's desperately holding on to the possibility of me, her old son, coming back to her! But because of these terrorists, because of your actions here, and because you were too bloodthirsty to even listen to your own conscience... you have sealed your own fate. Karl Van Buren, Troy McCann, Jason Foley, Gabriel Theobaldt... these victims of your insanity will soon be able to rest in peace.
What are you talking about?
We are one. You are my rage, embodied. I let you take over, and you drove me mad. The reason I stayed so depressed after all of those years... I was trying to supress you. I couldn't hold up. Then, you got on this island and I could only hope to quell - my - urges. Dominica Shapiro... That was as close as I could get. Even then it sickens me the little alliance we proposed. You are nothing more than a figment of my imagination, a mere shred of my personality that took over and never let go. Everything you've done on this island has been in vain. And now you've made the biggest mistake of all.
What?!
He twitched. The real Gabriel was once again in control, snapped back into a harsh reality. What he saw himself do... was too much to live with. As he looked down, he saw the grenade on the ground, in Ivye's dead hand. Tears streamed down his face. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
I... I should've been there for him. I should have never abandoned him, when he needed me the most...
"I'm sorry, Shane."
A large, violent explosion rocked the barracks, and pulverized Gabriel's standing form. His flesh was turned to a fine red mist, the sheer explosive power from the collar and grenade thoroughly reducing him to nothing but a few bloody shreds here and there.
The sword that Gabriel held was thrown from the explosion. That sword led to the deaths of Jason Foley, the tormented hockey player, and Troy McCann, the 'gangsta' who only really wanted to fit in. It flew and embedded itself in the ground, nearly missing Adam Dodd. That sword, a sword built for a knight... it belonged in the hands of a hero, an honorable man, a good man. Not a monster.
Ivye Dewley's grenades, those horrific tools of destruction, finally served a good purpose. Gabriel was dead.
~
This all happened within the span of a few seconds, and to an observer... well...
Shane Theobaldt watched the television, watched as his... brother... was preparing to tear apart his latest victim, and then... he stopped. He just stood there, looking at the grenade, and weeping.
"I'm sorry, Shane."
Those words echoed through the 17 year old's mind, as the explosion echoed throughout the island. It took a moment, but he understood now, after so long... It wasn't Gabriel, really, who was playing this sick game. His brother wasn't in control. It explains why he was so depressed and so detatched those years... it wasn't really the world Gabriel had to protect Shane from. Gabriel knew he could be like this, and he was trying to protect his brother, his family... everyone... from himself. He had paid the ultimate price... but no one had to suffer by his hand anymore.
"I know Gabriel. Wherever you are... thanks."
Shane had been watching the show consistently for almost three days straight, recording it, watching Gabriel. He had seen all Gabriel had done. Jason Foley, Troy McCann... and Karl Van Buren.
A small necklace, with a dark purple pendant lay underneath the Television, thrown angrily, sadly at the screen. Shane leaned down to pick it up. A teardrop pattered against the pendant. He shouldn't abandon the two he'd lost to the game.
The necklace once more hung from his neck. He turned off the television. There was no point in watching anymore.
"Gabriel, Karl... I won't forget you."
B08 - GABRIEL THEOBALDT - DECEASED
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler AtomicWaffle.
Help me I don't know what I'm doing
Help me before I fall to ruin
And if I'm blind, I will lead you on
Come follow me now, before our time is gone
Four shots, from his pistol, and Adam watched as two of them; perhaps his most well-aimed shots, hit their mark, one in the girl's shoulder and one in the back of her head. A third creased across Gabriel's arm and the fourth impacted upon a tree to his west.
Goddamnit, a little to the left with those last ones...
As the thought passed through his head, he became slightly alarmed at the fact that he felt absolutely no remorse for (as it was now apparent) killing the girl with the grenades and shooting at Gabriel Theobaldt. It took him a second, but he then remembered that this was Survival of the Fittest, he'd already killed twelve people, and what was a thirteenth? He was a glorified serial killer now, this was becoming so damn easy.
It's fine, she threw a fuckin' grenade at me; I can hardly see, feel like I'm gonna pass out...she fuckin' deserves that shit...it's alright until I start liking it. Then I'm really fucked.
As Adam processed these thoughts through his head, he raised the pistol to take another shot at Gabriel, who seemed stunned by the sudden destruction of the girl's face. As she fell forward towards where he was standing, Adam saw what Gabriel was undoubtedly looking at.
It was a grenade, and had; like many grenades seemed to be doing these days, misplaced it's pin as well.
And as you're laughing at this fool tonight
Let me rid myself of any line that I might use to trip you up
And as I'm howling at the moonlight, don't you kid yourself
I will be your luck and never your curse
Adam barely had time to let his eyes widen in surprise when the second grenade exploded in a fiery haze, engulfing Gabriel and the girl, and sending Adam diving for cover to avoid any oncoming shrapnel. Indeed, dirt and trees came flying his way and as he hit the ground hard (again), he silently hoped that the pack of grenades hadn't been caught in the blast radius.
That might mean curtains for me to-
Poking his head up to take a look, Adam yelled in shocked surprise as what appeared to be a sword came flying down and landed in the ground to his left, narrowly missing where his left hand was extended. Quickly pulling it back, Adam covered his eyes and waited a moment to let the dust settle.
This shit just keeps getting more and more insane by the second, doesn't it...
Lifting his head up and peering around, Adam's eyes first moved to the sword that had stuck itself in the ground somewhat close to him. Judging by the burn marks and dried blood on its handle, Adam assumed that Gabriel Theobaldt wouldn't be using it to menace any more kids. In fact, if that blast was any indication, he wouldn't be using it to do much of anything anymore. Dragging himself to his feet, squinting so his blurred vision could take the scene in, he staggered over to where the sword was, and with as much strength as he could muster, yanked it out of the ground. Much to his surprise, it was still in one piece, and didn't seem that much the worse for wear.
Durable little bastard, I'd say...
Much to his chagrin, he saw that the sheath to the sword was in slightly worse condition than the sword itself, and had landed nearby. The entire thing was a twisted husk of metal, utterly unusable. Shrugging, Adam took the sword and moved on to the blast area. Smoke still hung in the air, and as it cleared somewhat, Adam saw that just outside of the blast radius, everything had been coated in what looked to be a mixture of red paint and raw meat. Standing just outside of the center of the blast, Adam simply looked in shock at the destruction that lay in front of him.
"Wow."
Help me I don't know what I'm saying
Sometimes this tongue can be betraying
And if I'm wrong, is that such a crime?
And if you want, you can set my words to right
Gabriel Theobaldt, and that girl with the grenades...were both gone, vaporized into a mass of blood and gore that was splattered all around the area.
Shaking his head in a sense of disbelief, Adam forced himself over to where a pack lay on the ground, coated in a covering of red; whose remains it was impossible to tell. Gingerly kneeling down, Adam used the sword to steady himself as dizziness overtook him.
Shit! Looks like I'd better get moving before I pass the fuck out, or my brains turn to mush and dribble out my ear...
As he steadied himself, he silently wished he had the knife back, as it would undoubtedly have assisted him in his next unpleasant task. Opening the pack as carefully as he could (trying not to get gore all over himself), Adam used the muzzle of his pistol to nudge open the pack, eyes widening at his discovery. He'd essentially hit the jackpot. The pack had obviously belonged to the girl, as four grenades sat nestled within, in sharp contrast to the food and water that lay beside it.
"Better take this with me..."
Deciding that it was better to have supplies than to stay clean, Adam picked up the gorified pack and threw it around his shoulder, staggering back towards the barracks compound. As he did, he sighed. This was not a good situation. As he turned back to look at the barracks, he'd seen one very disturbing thing, something that would likely lure outsiders to the barracks.
The building he'd been in was on fire.
And as you're laughing at this fool tonight
Let me rid myself of any line that I might use to trip you up
And as I'm howling at the moonlight, don't you kid yourself
I will be your luck
Grimacing at the turn of events, Adam staggered back to where he'd made his hasty exit from the burning building. If nothing else, he'd left his pack on the ground, and he wanted to transfer what was inside the gory pack to his own. It seemed that no matter where he went, Adam Dodd was bound to start up a collection of weapons, and this time around, his collection seemed to be a bit better than before.
A sword, some grenades, a pistol, and...light tubes! God, I love those fuckin' things. But at least the sword won't shatter on impact and get the other guy to laugh at me.
As he thought it, Adam grimaced at the memory.
MAN, that was embarrassing.
Obviously not thinking straight, Adam made his way back to where his pack was, and collapsed to the ground, his knees yelling in protest as he dropped the gory pack beside his own. There was little time to waste, and the heat of the burning building made Adam uncomfortable, especially due to the fact that he was wearing three different layers. He'd never taken off his Winnipeg Jets jersey from when Julie had been holding him at gunpoint, and since he still wore the hoody, it was slightly hot for him at the present.
And not all that fashionable, either. Not that it's on my list of priorities, but...
And if your eyes forget to well
And if your lies forget to tell
And if our paths forget to cross
It doesn't mean you're lost
As quickly as he could, Adam transferred the belongings into his own pack, which was getting relatively heavy now. Adam knew that he could probably toss some of the luxury items he had, like his DS, but it wouldn't make any difference in the long run, and if he were trapped somewhere, it might come in handy to prevent him from going insane. Plus, it had weight to it, and was a potential weapon. Anything useable should be taken as a potential weapon, and Adam was ready to use whatever he had to.
Seems I won't be as desperate now, though...
Groaning, he dragged himself to his feet, his head feeling faint and almost feeling drunk on his own feet. Adam was exhausted, and the potential head injury that he'd sustained, along with any other undiscernable injuries were probably dragging him down. Not to mention the cuts and pieces of glass that remained in his arms that he was trying his damndest to ignore, those hurt like hell as well.
Glancing around, Adam tried to figure out where to go to. The only things around were other barracks buildings, and while it didn't get him away from the burning, it might suffice until he could patch himself up. Staggering towards the closest one, he saw that the door was already open, and a figure stood in the doorway. Bringing both pistol and sword to the ready, he was about to call out when he realized that the figure was headless. Blinking in surprise, Adam moved towards the headless body, standing upright in the doorway.
"What the hell?"
As he walked towards the body, something seemed to ebb at the back of his mind, the part that was still functioning. About to take a step forward, he stopped, and stood beside the corpse. It was undoubtedly a student, and the collar had exploded...which Adam found odd, as this area'd never been a danger zone.
So how...how does that happen...?
"Unless someone pulled off his collar, and then, maybe...unless..."
As his eyes looked down, Adam finally realized what had occurred here. There was a pool of blood on the ground, and this person had stepped in it, and it had somehow set off the collar...electrocuted, Adam assumed, from the condition of the feet of the body...as well as the fact that he recalled vaguely hearing something like it in an announcement.
Can't...remember...brain...out to lunch!
So as you're laughing at this fool tonight
Let me rid myself of any line that I might use to trip you up
And as I'm howling at the moonlight, don't you kid yourself
I will be your luck
Taking a step backwards from the corpse, Adam saw what looked like another body inside the room, causing Adam to retreat even quicker than he'd already decided to do.
"Yeah, people're checking out in that building, I think I'll just take the next one."
Sauntering over to the next building, Adam saw that it was in a similar condition to the other buildings but seemed to be untouched by human hands; at least for quite some time. Moving towards the door, Adam was struck again by the dizziness that had been plagung him. Staggering forward, he stumbled and almost pitched himself forward into a small ditch that lay beside the building. Staggering into the ditch, he collapsed to the ground as the world began to fade around him. Trying to force himself to his feet, he failed, and dropped to his bottom, the grass around him cool, as the area was nicely shaded.
"Son of a..."
Trying again to force himself to his feet, he failed once more, this time leaving the pack on the ground and trying to use the sword to pull himself up. This time, his grip weakened, and Adam fell again.
C'mon, Dodd. Fight it, fight this fucker...you aren't wanderin' at Death's door yet! C'MON!
If you're laughing at this fool tonight
Let me rid myself of any line that I might use to trip you up
And as I'm howling at the moonlight, don't you kid yourself
I will be your luck
Cause even at my worst
Grunting as he tried once more, he didn't even manage to get past the ground this time. Laying on the ground, he looked up at the rising sun, realizing to himself that he'd barely ever seen a half-decent sunrise. Through the trees, he could see it rise, and he almost wished he were more of a morning person because of it. Trying to fight the oncoming darkness, Adam cursed and tried to retain his strength.
"Dirty, dirty whore...don't you fuckin' dare...fucking Danya...won't have the...last laugh...ha HA!"
As he exclaimed his last laugh, Adam slumped to the ground, and sighed a little as the darkness overtook him, wondering why if this was indeed the end of it all, why he wasn't hallucinating anymore.
Maybe that's why...
And finally, mercifully, the world faded to black.
I will be your luck
never be your curse
B77 - ADAM DODD --- TEMPORARILY UNCONSCIOUS
Help me before I fall to ruin
And if I'm blind, I will lead you on
Come follow me now, before our time is gone
Four shots, from his pistol, and Adam watched as two of them; perhaps his most well-aimed shots, hit their mark, one in the girl's shoulder and one in the back of her head. A third creased across Gabriel's arm and the fourth impacted upon a tree to his west.
Goddamnit, a little to the left with those last ones...
As the thought passed through his head, he became slightly alarmed at the fact that he felt absolutely no remorse for (as it was now apparent) killing the girl with the grenades and shooting at Gabriel Theobaldt. It took him a second, but he then remembered that this was Survival of the Fittest, he'd already killed twelve people, and what was a thirteenth? He was a glorified serial killer now, this was becoming so damn easy.
It's fine, she threw a fuckin' grenade at me; I can hardly see, feel like I'm gonna pass out...she fuckin' deserves that shit...it's alright until I start liking it. Then I'm really fucked.
As Adam processed these thoughts through his head, he raised the pistol to take another shot at Gabriel, who seemed stunned by the sudden destruction of the girl's face. As she fell forward towards where he was standing, Adam saw what Gabriel was undoubtedly looking at.
It was a grenade, and had; like many grenades seemed to be doing these days, misplaced it's pin as well.
And as you're laughing at this fool tonight
Let me rid myself of any line that I might use to trip you up
And as I'm howling at the moonlight, don't you kid yourself
I will be your luck and never your curse
Adam barely had time to let his eyes widen in surprise when the second grenade exploded in a fiery haze, engulfing Gabriel and the girl, and sending Adam diving for cover to avoid any oncoming shrapnel. Indeed, dirt and trees came flying his way and as he hit the ground hard (again), he silently hoped that the pack of grenades hadn't been caught in the blast radius.
That might mean curtains for me to-
Poking his head up to take a look, Adam yelled in shocked surprise as what appeared to be a sword came flying down and landed in the ground to his left, narrowly missing where his left hand was extended. Quickly pulling it back, Adam covered his eyes and waited a moment to let the dust settle.
This shit just keeps getting more and more insane by the second, doesn't it...
Lifting his head up and peering around, Adam's eyes first moved to the sword that had stuck itself in the ground somewhat close to him. Judging by the burn marks and dried blood on its handle, Adam assumed that Gabriel Theobaldt wouldn't be using it to menace any more kids. In fact, if that blast was any indication, he wouldn't be using it to do much of anything anymore. Dragging himself to his feet, squinting so his blurred vision could take the scene in, he staggered over to where the sword was, and with as much strength as he could muster, yanked it out of the ground. Much to his surprise, it was still in one piece, and didn't seem that much the worse for wear.
Durable little bastard, I'd say...
Much to his chagrin, he saw that the sheath to the sword was in slightly worse condition than the sword itself, and had landed nearby. The entire thing was a twisted husk of metal, utterly unusable. Shrugging, Adam took the sword and moved on to the blast area. Smoke still hung in the air, and as it cleared somewhat, Adam saw that just outside of the blast radius, everything had been coated in what looked to be a mixture of red paint and raw meat. Standing just outside of the center of the blast, Adam simply looked in shock at the destruction that lay in front of him.
"Wow."
Help me I don't know what I'm saying
Sometimes this tongue can be betraying
And if I'm wrong, is that such a crime?
And if you want, you can set my words to right
Gabriel Theobaldt, and that girl with the grenades...were both gone, vaporized into a mass of blood and gore that was splattered all around the area.
Shaking his head in a sense of disbelief, Adam forced himself over to where a pack lay on the ground, coated in a covering of red; whose remains it was impossible to tell. Gingerly kneeling down, Adam used the sword to steady himself as dizziness overtook him.
Shit! Looks like I'd better get moving before I pass the fuck out, or my brains turn to mush and dribble out my ear...
As he steadied himself, he silently wished he had the knife back, as it would undoubtedly have assisted him in his next unpleasant task. Opening the pack as carefully as he could (trying not to get gore all over himself), Adam used the muzzle of his pistol to nudge open the pack, eyes widening at his discovery. He'd essentially hit the jackpot. The pack had obviously belonged to the girl, as four grenades sat nestled within, in sharp contrast to the food and water that lay beside it.
"Better take this with me..."
Deciding that it was better to have supplies than to stay clean, Adam picked up the gorified pack and threw it around his shoulder, staggering back towards the barracks compound. As he did, he sighed. This was not a good situation. As he turned back to look at the barracks, he'd seen one very disturbing thing, something that would likely lure outsiders to the barracks.
The building he'd been in was on fire.
And as you're laughing at this fool tonight
Let me rid myself of any line that I might use to trip you up
And as I'm howling at the moonlight, don't you kid yourself
I will be your luck
Grimacing at the turn of events, Adam staggered back to where he'd made his hasty exit from the burning building. If nothing else, he'd left his pack on the ground, and he wanted to transfer what was inside the gory pack to his own. It seemed that no matter where he went, Adam Dodd was bound to start up a collection of weapons, and this time around, his collection seemed to be a bit better than before.
A sword, some grenades, a pistol, and...light tubes! God, I love those fuckin' things. But at least the sword won't shatter on impact and get the other guy to laugh at me.
As he thought it, Adam grimaced at the memory.
MAN, that was embarrassing.
Obviously not thinking straight, Adam made his way back to where his pack was, and collapsed to the ground, his knees yelling in protest as he dropped the gory pack beside his own. There was little time to waste, and the heat of the burning building made Adam uncomfortable, especially due to the fact that he was wearing three different layers. He'd never taken off his Winnipeg Jets jersey from when Julie had been holding him at gunpoint, and since he still wore the hoody, it was slightly hot for him at the present.
And not all that fashionable, either. Not that it's on my list of priorities, but...
And if your eyes forget to well
And if your lies forget to tell
And if our paths forget to cross
It doesn't mean you're lost
As quickly as he could, Adam transferred the belongings into his own pack, which was getting relatively heavy now. Adam knew that he could probably toss some of the luxury items he had, like his DS, but it wouldn't make any difference in the long run, and if he were trapped somewhere, it might come in handy to prevent him from going insane. Plus, it had weight to it, and was a potential weapon. Anything useable should be taken as a potential weapon, and Adam was ready to use whatever he had to.
Seems I won't be as desperate now, though...
Groaning, he dragged himself to his feet, his head feeling faint and almost feeling drunk on his own feet. Adam was exhausted, and the potential head injury that he'd sustained, along with any other undiscernable injuries were probably dragging him down. Not to mention the cuts and pieces of glass that remained in his arms that he was trying his damndest to ignore, those hurt like hell as well.
Glancing around, Adam tried to figure out where to go to. The only things around were other barracks buildings, and while it didn't get him away from the burning, it might suffice until he could patch himself up. Staggering towards the closest one, he saw that the door was already open, and a figure stood in the doorway. Bringing both pistol and sword to the ready, he was about to call out when he realized that the figure was headless. Blinking in surprise, Adam moved towards the headless body, standing upright in the doorway.
"What the hell?"
As he walked towards the body, something seemed to ebb at the back of his mind, the part that was still functioning. About to take a step forward, he stopped, and stood beside the corpse. It was undoubtedly a student, and the collar had exploded...which Adam found odd, as this area'd never been a danger zone.
So how...how does that happen...?
"Unless someone pulled off his collar, and then, maybe...unless..."
As his eyes looked down, Adam finally realized what had occurred here. There was a pool of blood on the ground, and this person had stepped in it, and it had somehow set off the collar...electrocuted, Adam assumed, from the condition of the feet of the body...as well as the fact that he recalled vaguely hearing something like it in an announcement.
Can't...remember...brain...out to lunch!
So as you're laughing at this fool tonight
Let me rid myself of any line that I might use to trip you up
And as I'm howling at the moonlight, don't you kid yourself
I will be your luck
Taking a step backwards from the corpse, Adam saw what looked like another body inside the room, causing Adam to retreat even quicker than he'd already decided to do.
"Yeah, people're checking out in that building, I think I'll just take the next one."
Sauntering over to the next building, Adam saw that it was in a similar condition to the other buildings but seemed to be untouched by human hands; at least for quite some time. Moving towards the door, Adam was struck again by the dizziness that had been plagung him. Staggering forward, he stumbled and almost pitched himself forward into a small ditch that lay beside the building. Staggering into the ditch, he collapsed to the ground as the world began to fade around him. Trying to force himself to his feet, he failed, and dropped to his bottom, the grass around him cool, as the area was nicely shaded.
"Son of a..."
Trying again to force himself to his feet, he failed once more, this time leaving the pack on the ground and trying to use the sword to pull himself up. This time, his grip weakened, and Adam fell again.
C'mon, Dodd. Fight it, fight this fucker...you aren't wanderin' at Death's door yet! C'MON!
If you're laughing at this fool tonight
Let me rid myself of any line that I might use to trip you up
And as I'm howling at the moonlight, don't you kid yourself
I will be your luck
Cause even at my worst
Grunting as he tried once more, he didn't even manage to get past the ground this time. Laying on the ground, he looked up at the rising sun, realizing to himself that he'd barely ever seen a half-decent sunrise. Through the trees, he could see it rise, and he almost wished he were more of a morning person because of it. Trying to fight the oncoming darkness, Adam cursed and tried to retain his strength.
"Dirty, dirty whore...don't you fuckin' dare...fucking Danya...won't have the...last laugh...ha HA!"
As he exclaimed his last laugh, Adam slumped to the ground, and sighed a little as the darkness overtook him, wondering why if this was indeed the end of it all, why he wasn't hallucinating anymore.
Maybe that's why...
And finally, mercifully, the world faded to black.
I will be your luck
never be your curse
B77 - ADAM DODD --- TEMPORARILY UNCONSCIOUS
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
(Continued from: The Showers)
"...What in the name of heaven above happened here?"
Julie stared in shock at the scene of ruin and destruction as the scent of acrid smoke filled her nose, causing her eyes to water and cough profusely. She quickly moved close to investigate. Had something happened here while she'd been gone? Where was Adam?
She could barely recognize the detatchment where they had rested the night before, it looked as though it had been blown apart by a tornado...or an explosion even, judging from the shrapnel that was embedded into what remained of the small building. Adam was absolutely nowhere to be seen by this point. Though, investigating closer, she came across the remnants of two dead students, both by this point completely unrecognizeable due to the fact that their bodies were mottled and torn apart by what had been flying shrapnel. Neither of them looked anything like Adam, but then again Julie probably wouldn't have recognized him either way had that been the case.
Julie moved about, investigating the area a bit further. If Adam had been caught by the explosion of shrapnel, his corpse should be visible at least, if not recognizeable. Walking about, she noted stains of blood against the ground, leading away from the ruined building.... leaving a trail. On a hunch, Julie followed them. If her instincts were right then...Adam was probably hurt. Which meant he couldn't have gone far.
Or could he have? The explosion WAS rather recent, Julie had heard it on her way through the jungle back to the barracks.
It wasn't long before another body drew her attention, lying against the ground in the ditch, completely motionless. Julie approached...and once she saw who it was lying on the ground, her footfalls instantly broke into a run.
"Adam...Oh my God..."
His clothes were covered in blood, and some of it was even seeping out of one ear. He didn't appear to be moving at all...
Just as Julie's head was starting to swim at the sickening possibility that Adam was dead, she noticed his back rising and falling a bit. She too let out a breath. One of complete relief.
He was alright...but quite badly hurt it seemed. His wounds didn't appear to be fatal, but...if they weren't tended to quickly...
There was that. And then there was the fact that Adam was still unconscious.
Julie didn't waste anymore time. Dropping her bag for a moment, she reached over to grab Adam underneath the arms, attempting to drag him out of the ditch and towards the nearest detatchment. One that hadn't blown apart by exploding shrapnel. It wasn't too far off, it was right next to the ditch in fact, but Julie felt her back strain somewhat at the half-dead weight that was Adam Dodd...
No offense, but he ought to lose some of it, too... Julie thought as she gave up trying to drag him and instead slung his arm over her shoulder, standing up and essentially half carrying him to the next building over. Her knees were buckling under the weight, and her muscles were screaming at her... but really, what was a bit of pain and exhaustion compared to the thing that truly mattered right now?
The sound of her own footfalls striking the wooden floor as she stepped into the building was merciful music to her ears, though it took everything in her power, all the strength she could muster to keep herself from simply dropping Adam on the floor there and then.
Because really, does anyone appreciate being dropped like a habit on the floor? ...Didn't think so.
Bringing him to rest at a cot and setting him into a lying position facing upwards, Julie took a quick breather before heading out to retrieve her pack, as well as Adam's...as well as the collection he had acquired, sword and all...
Back in the detatchment, she opened all four packs, and took out all four first aid kits. Some were fuller than others, but really, the more supplies she had on hand, the better...
She looked towards Adam Dodd, blinking slightly, barely knowing what she was doing. Well really, she had to get that hoodie off, first of all. If he absolutely had to complain about it, he'd simply have to do that AFTER waking up, and AFTER Julie had seen to his wounds...
Julie winced at the sight as the fabric peeled away from the wounds at his arm and sides...they looked absolutely nasty, and Julie had only the faintest idea of how to treat them, really.
...Well, I'm no Hawley Faust, and I sure as hell have no medical experience. But hey! I've gotten an XS ranking on all the Challenge Missions in Trauma Center! I'm sure that counts for something! How about that Dodd? The ice-bitch plays a DS too! Now how does the line go? ...."Starting the operation!" I think....and then there's, "I WILL SAVE THIS PATIENT!" ...Fuck, or something like that. And then I start carving pentacles on you and hope it'll slow time before the evil terrorist-manufactured virus chews up your heart, kills you, and gives me a game over...
She started by using forceps to very carefully remove the glass shards, one by one.
Great. No Nurse Angie to tell me that Vitals are dropping below 15...I don't have that instant healing antibiotic gel, I'm sure that thing would work wonders right now.
....What? Has NO one ever played that game before? ...
...But...but seriously? That's just a fucking awesome game! ....Well, what AM I saying? Okay Julie, shut up and concentrate.... Haha! Concentrate on the 'Healing Touch' and save the patient! Gods I loved that game...Okay, shutting up now...and saving said patient.
...
Several minutes later, Julie stepped back a bit. She had worked on cleaning his wounds first of all, applying antiseptic, and doing her best to apply bandaging...
...And to be honest? Julie didn't think she'd done a half-bad job after all! Well, not like it was apparent or anything, other than the bandages around his arm and chest and the gauze at his face were applied neatly, and they stayed in place in fact. That and the wounds were no longer bleeding, it seemed. Though...If Adam suddenly rotted from the inside out due to his wounds getting infected, then there was probably a guaruntee that Julie had done something seriously wrong there in patching him up.
...To be honest, that would kind of suck.
But I DID disinfect his wounds... She thought to herself, stepping back a bit. Actually...I think he'll be fine. Probably awful of me to say this but...well? To be honest? He's been through worse, I'm sure.
Having washed her hands with the contents of a water bottle, Julie sat back against the cot opposite of where Adam was lying, putting her knees up to her chest as she always did, looking for a while towards Adam, who had yet to regain consciousness.
Poor guy...you've sure been through a lot, huh? And I thought I had it hard...
Julie's chin rested against her knee a bit.
...But you're one lucky motherfucker, aren't you? You've got people like Hawley and David and Madelaine and me who simply flock towards you to lend their aid to the great Adam Dodd... Not many people ever have...or rather, had that many loyal allies on their side.
She tilted her head to the side in thought.
I guess I would be one of them too, huh? Eh, well to be honest, you helped me first, really. This is just returning the favour.
...or is it now, really? Will we ever know? Probably not...
Julie smiled a bit to herself.
It would be nice if we could live in a world where people didn't care about 'who owed them' or 'to whom they owe' or 'payback' or 'calling it due'. Why is it that people need that kind of obligation just to motivate them to help others, or show kindness? Do we really need a reason to help someone else? We humans...we're like that. It's foolish...
She gazed out the doorway to the plume of dust and smoke still rising from the scene of destruction just outside.
Humans, huh...? All about convenience. Convenient, huh? Humans.
"...What in the name of heaven above happened here?"
Julie stared in shock at the scene of ruin and destruction as the scent of acrid smoke filled her nose, causing her eyes to water and cough profusely. She quickly moved close to investigate. Had something happened here while she'd been gone? Where was Adam?
She could barely recognize the detatchment where they had rested the night before, it looked as though it had been blown apart by a tornado...or an explosion even, judging from the shrapnel that was embedded into what remained of the small building. Adam was absolutely nowhere to be seen by this point. Though, investigating closer, she came across the remnants of two dead students, both by this point completely unrecognizeable due to the fact that their bodies were mottled and torn apart by what had been flying shrapnel. Neither of them looked anything like Adam, but then again Julie probably wouldn't have recognized him either way had that been the case.
Julie moved about, investigating the area a bit further. If Adam had been caught by the explosion of shrapnel, his corpse should be visible at least, if not recognizeable. Walking about, she noted stains of blood against the ground, leading away from the ruined building.... leaving a trail. On a hunch, Julie followed them. If her instincts were right then...Adam was probably hurt. Which meant he couldn't have gone far.
Or could he have? The explosion WAS rather recent, Julie had heard it on her way through the jungle back to the barracks.
It wasn't long before another body drew her attention, lying against the ground in the ditch, completely motionless. Julie approached...and once she saw who it was lying on the ground, her footfalls instantly broke into a run.
"Adam...Oh my God..."
His clothes were covered in blood, and some of it was even seeping out of one ear. He didn't appear to be moving at all...
Just as Julie's head was starting to swim at the sickening possibility that Adam was dead, she noticed his back rising and falling a bit. She too let out a breath. One of complete relief.
He was alright...but quite badly hurt it seemed. His wounds didn't appear to be fatal, but...if they weren't tended to quickly...
There was that. And then there was the fact that Adam was still unconscious.
Julie didn't waste anymore time. Dropping her bag for a moment, she reached over to grab Adam underneath the arms, attempting to drag him out of the ditch and towards the nearest detatchment. One that hadn't blown apart by exploding shrapnel. It wasn't too far off, it was right next to the ditch in fact, but Julie felt her back strain somewhat at the half-dead weight that was Adam Dodd...
No offense, but he ought to lose some of it, too... Julie thought as she gave up trying to drag him and instead slung his arm over her shoulder, standing up and essentially half carrying him to the next building over. Her knees were buckling under the weight, and her muscles were screaming at her... but really, what was a bit of pain and exhaustion compared to the thing that truly mattered right now?
The sound of her own footfalls striking the wooden floor as she stepped into the building was merciful music to her ears, though it took everything in her power, all the strength she could muster to keep herself from simply dropping Adam on the floor there and then.
Because really, does anyone appreciate being dropped like a habit on the floor? ...Didn't think so.
Bringing him to rest at a cot and setting him into a lying position facing upwards, Julie took a quick breather before heading out to retrieve her pack, as well as Adam's...as well as the collection he had acquired, sword and all...
Back in the detatchment, she opened all four packs, and took out all four first aid kits. Some were fuller than others, but really, the more supplies she had on hand, the better...
She looked towards Adam Dodd, blinking slightly, barely knowing what she was doing. Well really, she had to get that hoodie off, first of all. If he absolutely had to complain about it, he'd simply have to do that AFTER waking up, and AFTER Julie had seen to his wounds...
Julie winced at the sight as the fabric peeled away from the wounds at his arm and sides...they looked absolutely nasty, and Julie had only the faintest idea of how to treat them, really.
...Well, I'm no Hawley Faust, and I sure as hell have no medical experience. But hey! I've gotten an XS ranking on all the Challenge Missions in Trauma Center! I'm sure that counts for something! How about that Dodd? The ice-bitch plays a DS too! Now how does the line go? ...."Starting the operation!" I think....and then there's, "I WILL SAVE THIS PATIENT!" ...Fuck, or something like that. And then I start carving pentacles on you and hope it'll slow time before the evil terrorist-manufactured virus chews up your heart, kills you, and gives me a game over...
She started by using forceps to very carefully remove the glass shards, one by one.
Great. No Nurse Angie to tell me that Vitals are dropping below 15...I don't have that instant healing antibiotic gel, I'm sure that thing would work wonders right now.
....What? Has NO one ever played that game before? ...
...But...but seriously? That's just a fucking awesome game! ....Well, what AM I saying? Okay Julie, shut up and concentrate.... Haha! Concentrate on the 'Healing Touch' and save the patient! Gods I loved that game...Okay, shutting up now...and saving said patient.
...
Several minutes later, Julie stepped back a bit. She had worked on cleaning his wounds first of all, applying antiseptic, and doing her best to apply bandaging...
...And to be honest? Julie didn't think she'd done a half-bad job after all! Well, not like it was apparent or anything, other than the bandages around his arm and chest and the gauze at his face were applied neatly, and they stayed in place in fact. That and the wounds were no longer bleeding, it seemed. Though...If Adam suddenly rotted from the inside out due to his wounds getting infected, then there was probably a guaruntee that Julie had done something seriously wrong there in patching him up.
...To be honest, that would kind of suck.
But I DID disinfect his wounds... She thought to herself, stepping back a bit. Actually...I think he'll be fine. Probably awful of me to say this but...well? To be honest? He's been through worse, I'm sure.
Having washed her hands with the contents of a water bottle, Julie sat back against the cot opposite of where Adam was lying, putting her knees up to her chest as she always did, looking for a while towards Adam, who had yet to regain consciousness.
Poor guy...you've sure been through a lot, huh? And I thought I had it hard...
Julie's chin rested against her knee a bit.
...But you're one lucky motherfucker, aren't you? You've got people like Hawley and David and Madelaine and me who simply flock towards you to lend their aid to the great Adam Dodd... Not many people ever have...or rather, had that many loyal allies on their side.
She tilted her head to the side in thought.
I guess I would be one of them too, huh? Eh, well to be honest, you helped me first, really. This is just returning the favour.
...or is it now, really? Will we ever know? Probably not...
Julie smiled a bit to herself.
It would be nice if we could live in a world where people didn't care about 'who owed them' or 'to whom they owe' or 'payback' or 'calling it due'. Why is it that people need that kind of obligation just to motivate them to help others, or show kindness? Do we really need a reason to help someone else? We humans...we're like that. It's foolish...
She gazed out the doorway to the plume of dust and smoke still rising from the scene of destruction just outside.
Humans, huh...? All about convenience. Convenient, huh? Humans.
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.
(Sean continued from: Say Goodbye, Hollywood)
Sean had felt marginally more secure since leaving the Storehouse. Now, at least, he had something which was capable of doing damage, rather than a piddly little glass knife, which was about as threatening as an angry teddy bear. Still, Sean was hardly going to be able to take the island by storm with a poker. It was adequate protection, but little more than that. Come up against somebody with say, a handgun, and Sean would get his head blown off faster than he could curse Danya for not giving him the gun to go with his bullets.
He had tried to keep his spirits up: after all, evading two of the island's killers, albeit because they let him go, was definitely something to celebrate. However... there was a more pressing matter nagging at Sean: namely, where the fuck was Andy? They had met up right from the beginning, his boyfriend was pretty much the first guy Sean had come across. But since the chapel had been declared a danger zone, and the group they had formed was forced to split to avoid getting their collars detonated, Sean hadn't seen Andy, nor heard a murmur of news. That, at least, gave Sean the consolation of knowing that his boyfriend was still alive somewhere out there: if, that was, he hadn't been killed between now and the second announcement.
I really don't want to think about that, but... could he really be dead? It's a couple of hours into day three already, and I haven't seen him for more than a day now... Dammit, it doesn't matter: I can't stand here wondering about what-if's and maybe's. I'll know if he's dead, just as I'll know if he's alive, by the end of the day. This place isn't that big, it can't be too difficult a task to find him again...
"Holy shit."
For a few moments, Sean could do nothing but stand and gape at the destruction which had taken place at the barracks. He had heard explosions: several in fact, but he had no idea that the most recent one had been quite this severe. One of the small bulidings had extensive damage, and there were two dead bodies that Sean could see right from the off. Considering they were shredded rather than fried, Sean could safely assume there were at least four corpses around the area, if he counted the two which had been called in the first announcement.
Wait. Was he really thinking like that? Dead people weren't just numbers: Sean could see that distinctly, right in front of him. Sean had already seen two people killed, he hated to think that he was becoming desensitised. Especially when you considered both of these bodies were rather more messed up than the others, although Troy's corpse had not been at all pleasing to look at. Had anybody even made it alive out of this? Sean could definitely argue in the negative, although... he noticed that neither of the bodies had their daypack any longer. Either somebody had already breezed through here, looted, then left, or they had done a bit of thievery, and were still somewhere in the area...
"Damn. What the hell can I do? Somebody good could be injured out there, or some kind of psychopath who put paid to these two already... Should I risk getting myself capped on the off chance that-" Sean trailed off and quickly reconsidered, "It's worth it. The risk is worth it,"
Sean looked left and right, taking a few discreet steps to one side, so that he could dive behind one of the other buildings for cover if need be. He still couldn't see anybody, but it wasn't like he could look through walls was it?
"Is there anybody alive here?" Sean called out, slightly louder than his normal speaking voice, and about as loud as the situation warranted. There was no sense attracting any more attention than he absolutely had to.
He wasn't sure whether or not calling out had been the best of ideas. But Sean reassured himself, using his shaken morals for support, that it might not have been the best thing to do, but it had been the right thing. Sean wasn't about to walk out on this place: possibly leaving somebody hurt, just to safeguard his own skin. Much as he didn't want to die, there was still a right and a wrong.
Sean had felt marginally more secure since leaving the Storehouse. Now, at least, he had something which was capable of doing damage, rather than a piddly little glass knife, which was about as threatening as an angry teddy bear. Still, Sean was hardly going to be able to take the island by storm with a poker. It was adequate protection, but little more than that. Come up against somebody with say, a handgun, and Sean would get his head blown off faster than he could curse Danya for not giving him the gun to go with his bullets.
He had tried to keep his spirits up: after all, evading two of the island's killers, albeit because they let him go, was definitely something to celebrate. However... there was a more pressing matter nagging at Sean: namely, where the fuck was Andy? They had met up right from the beginning, his boyfriend was pretty much the first guy Sean had come across. But since the chapel had been declared a danger zone, and the group they had formed was forced to split to avoid getting their collars detonated, Sean hadn't seen Andy, nor heard a murmur of news. That, at least, gave Sean the consolation of knowing that his boyfriend was still alive somewhere out there: if, that was, he hadn't been killed between now and the second announcement.
I really don't want to think about that, but... could he really be dead? It's a couple of hours into day three already, and I haven't seen him for more than a day now... Dammit, it doesn't matter: I can't stand here wondering about what-if's and maybe's. I'll know if he's dead, just as I'll know if he's alive, by the end of the day. This place isn't that big, it can't be too difficult a task to find him again...
"Holy shit."
For a few moments, Sean could do nothing but stand and gape at the destruction which had taken place at the barracks. He had heard explosions: several in fact, but he had no idea that the most recent one had been quite this severe. One of the small bulidings had extensive damage, and there were two dead bodies that Sean could see right from the off. Considering they were shredded rather than fried, Sean could safely assume there were at least four corpses around the area, if he counted the two which had been called in the first announcement.
Wait. Was he really thinking like that? Dead people weren't just numbers: Sean could see that distinctly, right in front of him. Sean had already seen two people killed, he hated to think that he was becoming desensitised. Especially when you considered both of these bodies were rather more messed up than the others, although Troy's corpse had not been at all pleasing to look at. Had anybody even made it alive out of this? Sean could definitely argue in the negative, although... he noticed that neither of the bodies had their daypack any longer. Either somebody had already breezed through here, looted, then left, or they had done a bit of thievery, and were still somewhere in the area...
"Damn. What the hell can I do? Somebody good could be injured out there, or some kind of psychopath who put paid to these two already... Should I risk getting myself capped on the off chance that-" Sean trailed off and quickly reconsidered, "It's worth it. The risk is worth it,"
Sean looked left and right, taking a few discreet steps to one side, so that he could dive behind one of the other buildings for cover if need be. He still couldn't see anybody, but it wasn't like he could look through walls was it?
"Is there anybody alive here?" Sean called out, slightly louder than his normal speaking voice, and about as loud as the situation warranted. There was no sense attracting any more attention than he absolutely had to.
He wasn't sure whether or not calling out had been the best of ideas. But Sean reassured himself, using his shaken morals for support, that it might not have been the best thing to do, but it had been the right thing. Sean wasn't about to walk out on this place: possibly leaving somebody hurt, just to safeguard his own skin. Much as he didn't want to die, there was still a right and a wrong.
"Well, I'm alive... not that it's much to celebrate..." Said the voice of a rather irritated looking girl, her southern drawl making it near impossible to mistake who it was. Kyrie Joseph was not in the best of moods at the moment. She directed herself to the Barracks when the grenade's explosion nearly burst her eardrum from her hiding spot in the Jungle. She wanted to see if she could find any survivors, and it seemed that this boy, whom she recognized as Sean O'Cann, had the exact same idea.
"Sigh... I don't really think anyone survived, but I suppose it couldn't hurt to take a look. Oh, and please don't ask me if I'm playing. What am I supposed to do, yell you to death?" She said, whist holing up her designated weapon to be seen by the athlete. They had given her a megaphone to protect herself. It was ironic really. The environmental Activist of Highland Beach received a megaphone to slaughter her competition with. Someone out there had a sick sense of humor.
"I could ask if you're playing, but I sincerely doubt a player would be asking if anyone's alive." She added, before taking a few steps toward the carnage.
"Hmph... you can't even tell who they are... It's sickening..." She said with the disgust apparent in her voice.
"There's no way in hell I'm going to die here. I've never given in to the man before, so there's no way I'm gonna play by their rules... I'm escaping. Some way, some how... I'm getting the hell off of this oversized graveyard." She looked toward Sean when she said that. She smiled faintly and began to walk toward the building that wasn't on fire. It was in her best interest NOT to burn to death.
"If anyone was alive, they'd be holed up in one of these. But I doubt they'll be able to hear us." She lifted her megaphone and turned the volume dial down to it's lowest setting. She lifted it up to her mouth.
"Hello? Are you alright? It's Kyrie and Sean. We want to help. Is anyone injured?" She yelled. Her voice was amplified by the device slightly, and it was just enough to be heard inside the surrounding buildings.
"Sigh... I don't really think anyone survived, but I suppose it couldn't hurt to take a look. Oh, and please don't ask me if I'm playing. What am I supposed to do, yell you to death?" She said, whist holing up her designated weapon to be seen by the athlete. They had given her a megaphone to protect herself. It was ironic really. The environmental Activist of Highland Beach received a megaphone to slaughter her competition with. Someone out there had a sick sense of humor.
"I could ask if you're playing, but I sincerely doubt a player would be asking if anyone's alive." She added, before taking a few steps toward the carnage.
"Hmph... you can't even tell who they are... It's sickening..." She said with the disgust apparent in her voice.
"There's no way in hell I'm going to die here. I've never given in to the man before, so there's no way I'm gonna play by their rules... I'm escaping. Some way, some how... I'm getting the hell off of this oversized graveyard." She looked toward Sean when she said that. She smiled faintly and began to walk toward the building that wasn't on fire. It was in her best interest NOT to burn to death.
"If anyone was alive, they'd be holed up in one of these. But I doubt they'll be able to hear us." She lifted her megaphone and turned the volume dial down to it's lowest setting. She lifted it up to her mouth.
"Hello? Are you alright? It's Kyrie and Sean. We want to help. Is anyone injured?" She yelled. Her voice was amplified by the device slightly, and it was just enough to be heard inside the surrounding buildings.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Mitsuko2. 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.
Inside of the building, Adam lay on one of the cots, moving very slightly. Julie'd done a bang-up job of patching him up, but thanks to the shock and the sudden sensory overload caused by the grenade, he was still out cold. As such, he didn't hear a thing. He was too busy dealing with his subconscious...
~~~
It was home. A little odd that he found himself here, but under the circumstances, Adam supposed that he could understand it. It wasn't California-home, either. No, this was good old Barry-motherfuckin'-Coleson home. Upstate New York, or so it seemed. Adam was currently sitting on his couch, and everything seemed...well, it seemed normal. The sun was shining, and things were all right. As for how he got here, sitting on the couch? Who knew. The bigger story right now was who was in the room with him.
"Guess this isn't real, either...is it?"
Adam sounded skeptical - and indeed he was. Sitting across from him on the other couch opposite the one Adam sat on was his good friend, Andrew Lipson. Andrew appeared much like how Adam remembered him - backwards red cap, wearing long jeans and a t-shirt. He still looked a bit like Adam Sandler, and still seemed to have that smug grin on his face. It was just how Adam remembered him.
It wasn't necessarily strange that Adam was dreaming about his friends - this much was something that happened often to Adam. His dreams were usually populated by people he knew to the point where they often resembled epic stories, and not just fragments like the dreams of some other people. No, it was a little more unusual that Adam was dreaming of Andrew appearing to him in this form, as the Andrew that Adam usually encountered in his dreams looked a whole lot different.
Much of this had to do with the fact that Andrew Lipson had perished in the first edition of Survival of the Fittest, and Adam had been the one to find his body.
Usually, Andrew was found in a full state of decay, cellular phone fused to his hand, wheelchair rusty and waterlogged. Adam remembered the visual as well as he could remember anything - it'd been etched into his mind, like so many of the scars from his first go-round. In fact, the dreams, they hadn't really been dreams at all. More often than not, they were in fact nightmares.
"You'd be surprised, bro. Real? What is real, anyway? I mean, I don't wanna get all metaphysical and shit on ya, but you don't know, do ya?"
Adam found himself feeling calm as the visage of his dead friend spoke to him, and found himself feeling odd. He felt strangely in control of his situation, and even so...it didn't feel as foggy as a dream usually would. In fact, he felt very awake right now, though he knew it was all but impossible. Andrew was paralyzed, and he was (somewhat more importantly) dead, which meant he couldn't be here. Also, Adam couldn't be here either. He was back in Survival of the Fittest, and had already killed two more people. All of the facts, they didn't add up.
But that's really neither here nor there, is it?
"Andrew...I don't even know what the fuck is real anymore. Man...I'm so tired of this. It's like...whatever happened to being a normal teenager, gettin' drunk with your friends and not giving a damn about anything that's going on in the world? I mean, I miss that, you know?"
Andrew nodded, and shrugged.
"True, true. But c'mon, Dodd. You know that shit wouldn't last anyway. Even if you went through life as a pure little innocent choirboy an' shit, it wouldn't last."
Andrew grinned.
"Especially not if you had priests molestin' you."
Adam shook his head and rolled his eyes.
"A choirboy, I'm not, dude. No, I got molested by a terrorist instead...so what am I doing here, man? I mean, you tell me - are you a part of my subconscious, trying to make me forgive myself for my various transgressions, which you're going to tell me aren't my fault? Try to ease my suffering, or my guilt?"
Raising an eyebrow, Andrew swung his legs up on the couch and lay back, resting his head on the armrest.
"Well, do ya feel guilty, bro?"
Adam thought for a moment, but shook his head.
"It's kinda weird, actually. Like...I just killed two more people. That's...thirteen and fourteen. I'm a fuckin'...like, serial killer. But...I..."
Adam snorted, almost in a mixture of disgust and disbelief.
"I really can't say that I give a shit. I think that's really the part that I'm feeling guilty about. I'm feeling guilty that I can't feel guilty. Which I guess kind of like, evens itself out, but..."
His friend interrupted him before he had a chance to finish.
"But nothin', bro. Come on, think about things. You survived a really fucked-up ordeal. You were the sole survivor. You're basically a walkin' post-traumatic stress cliche. Then, a couple years later? Shit goes all fucked again, and you somehow manage to get yourself kidnapped again. So you're back into it. You don't think that's gonna fry your emotions a little bit? And hey...you heard it all yourself, bro. Gabriel was a killer. He was not a very nice guy. That chick? Tossed. A. GRENADE at you. So why aren't you feelin' guilty? You're not a bad person, dude. You're just...kinda fried a little."
Adam shrugged, and scratched the back of his neck.
"Fried, eh? I guess that's a decent way of putting it. Man...why the hell did you have to go and get yourself killed? I mean, seriously. Really fucked me up a whole lot, y'know? I've already told you this like...several times in hallucinations and stuf-"
Andrew cut him off again.
"Yeah, yeah...guilty about lettin' your friends down, you're all messed up, not the same person you once were, blah blah, blah. Fuck, bro. I thought Maddy already came around an' slapped some sense into ya? Don't make me get Amato to come around and knock some sense into you."
Adam winced instinctively. His two friends, Adam Amato and Andrew Ponikarovsky - they'd perished in the second version of Danya's program, and there'd been nothing he could have done to save them.
"Jeez. Amato. I swear, sometimes I can't help but think that instead of being figments of my imagination, all these hallucinations are maybe your actual ghosts, who think it's fun to fuckin' torment me."
Grinning, Andrew nodded a bit.
"Well, here's the thing, bro. You're never gonna know, until ya die. Was it your imagination? Was it really a ghost? But the kicker? If you're right, and it's just your imagination? You'll never know. But fuck, man...we're all keepin' tabs on you. Half the fuckin' Barry Coleson folks're just kinda movin' on, but ... hey man, there's still a few of us who're lookin' out for ya. I mean, fuck...people you wouldn't expect are still pokin' around."
Adam looked somewhat amused.
"Provided you're a ghost."
He grinned. "Exactly. I'm not sayin' anything either way, but you'll never know, bro. So think whatcha want, and I'll just fuck with your head a bit."
Putting his hands to his head, Adam groaned.
"You're fucking impossible, you know that? Jeez..."
Andrew only laughed.
"Yeah, well...maybe I am. Anyway, yeah...tons of us, y'know? Amanda's still here, of course. Madelaine you've already seen. Pants and Amato, yeah, those guys're still kickin' around. You shoulda seen the shit-fit Pants threw when he found out he died after flipping a car. It was actually hilarious, bro. Then you got guys like Sidney Crosby, who's stickin' around for...well, I don't know why. He's kind of a whiny little bitch, actually. Dave Jackson asked for his autograph, which I kinda found weird, 'cause...like...he's dead, and all. But hey...to each his own. Yeah, we've been bettin' on eventual cause o'death and all. Needless to say, I've got faith in ya, bud."
Raising an eyebrow, and looking almost amused, Adam held out his hands.
"Well, what is it? What're you betting finally gets me? Gunshot wound? Drowning? Loss of blood?"
Andrew shook his head, and laughed.
"Nah, buddy. Like I said, I've got faith in ya. Hawley's got loss o'blood, Amato's going with the gunshot wound, and River Garraty - yeah, that dude's still around too, he's goin' with drowning. Nah, me? Like I said, I believe in ya, buddy. I've got you croakin' by way of a good ol' fashioned heart attack."
Laughing along with his friend, a little at the morbidity and a little at the aburdity, Adam shook his head.
"You picked last, didn't you?"
Andrew's head sank, and he chuckled sadly.
"Damn straight, bud. Damn straight. Nah, but I've got faith I'll come out okay. Maddy's got old age, but she got ripped on for that..."
~~~
Back in the real world, Adam still lay on the cot, unmoving. But now, instead of the scowl that he'd held on his face before, his expression had slowly turned into an amused smirk, which stayed in place, even as the megaphone from the two outside made almost enough noise to wake the dead, even at its relatively low setting. Adam still slept, but felt far less turmoil than any of his prior sleeps had in quite some time.
~~~
It was home. A little odd that he found himself here, but under the circumstances, Adam supposed that he could understand it. It wasn't California-home, either. No, this was good old Barry-motherfuckin'-Coleson home. Upstate New York, or so it seemed. Adam was currently sitting on his couch, and everything seemed...well, it seemed normal. The sun was shining, and things were all right. As for how he got here, sitting on the couch? Who knew. The bigger story right now was who was in the room with him.
"Guess this isn't real, either...is it?"
Adam sounded skeptical - and indeed he was. Sitting across from him on the other couch opposite the one Adam sat on was his good friend, Andrew Lipson. Andrew appeared much like how Adam remembered him - backwards red cap, wearing long jeans and a t-shirt. He still looked a bit like Adam Sandler, and still seemed to have that smug grin on his face. It was just how Adam remembered him.
It wasn't necessarily strange that Adam was dreaming about his friends - this much was something that happened often to Adam. His dreams were usually populated by people he knew to the point where they often resembled epic stories, and not just fragments like the dreams of some other people. No, it was a little more unusual that Adam was dreaming of Andrew appearing to him in this form, as the Andrew that Adam usually encountered in his dreams looked a whole lot different.
Much of this had to do with the fact that Andrew Lipson had perished in the first edition of Survival of the Fittest, and Adam had been the one to find his body.
Usually, Andrew was found in a full state of decay, cellular phone fused to his hand, wheelchair rusty and waterlogged. Adam remembered the visual as well as he could remember anything - it'd been etched into his mind, like so many of the scars from his first go-round. In fact, the dreams, they hadn't really been dreams at all. More often than not, they were in fact nightmares.
"You'd be surprised, bro. Real? What is real, anyway? I mean, I don't wanna get all metaphysical and shit on ya, but you don't know, do ya?"
Adam found himself feeling calm as the visage of his dead friend spoke to him, and found himself feeling odd. He felt strangely in control of his situation, and even so...it didn't feel as foggy as a dream usually would. In fact, he felt very awake right now, though he knew it was all but impossible. Andrew was paralyzed, and he was (somewhat more importantly) dead, which meant he couldn't be here. Also, Adam couldn't be here either. He was back in Survival of the Fittest, and had already killed two more people. All of the facts, they didn't add up.
But that's really neither here nor there, is it?
"Andrew...I don't even know what the fuck is real anymore. Man...I'm so tired of this. It's like...whatever happened to being a normal teenager, gettin' drunk with your friends and not giving a damn about anything that's going on in the world? I mean, I miss that, you know?"
Andrew nodded, and shrugged.
"True, true. But c'mon, Dodd. You know that shit wouldn't last anyway. Even if you went through life as a pure little innocent choirboy an' shit, it wouldn't last."
Andrew grinned.
"Especially not if you had priests molestin' you."
Adam shook his head and rolled his eyes.
"A choirboy, I'm not, dude. No, I got molested by a terrorist instead...so what am I doing here, man? I mean, you tell me - are you a part of my subconscious, trying to make me forgive myself for my various transgressions, which you're going to tell me aren't my fault? Try to ease my suffering, or my guilt?"
Raising an eyebrow, Andrew swung his legs up on the couch and lay back, resting his head on the armrest.
"Well, do ya feel guilty, bro?"
Adam thought for a moment, but shook his head.
"It's kinda weird, actually. Like...I just killed two more people. That's...thirteen and fourteen. I'm a fuckin'...like, serial killer. But...I..."
Adam snorted, almost in a mixture of disgust and disbelief.
"I really can't say that I give a shit. I think that's really the part that I'm feeling guilty about. I'm feeling guilty that I can't feel guilty. Which I guess kind of like, evens itself out, but..."
His friend interrupted him before he had a chance to finish.
"But nothin', bro. Come on, think about things. You survived a really fucked-up ordeal. You were the sole survivor. You're basically a walkin' post-traumatic stress cliche. Then, a couple years later? Shit goes all fucked again, and you somehow manage to get yourself kidnapped again. So you're back into it. You don't think that's gonna fry your emotions a little bit? And hey...you heard it all yourself, bro. Gabriel was a killer. He was not a very nice guy. That chick? Tossed. A. GRENADE at you. So why aren't you feelin' guilty? You're not a bad person, dude. You're just...kinda fried a little."
Adam shrugged, and scratched the back of his neck.
"Fried, eh? I guess that's a decent way of putting it. Man...why the hell did you have to go and get yourself killed? I mean, seriously. Really fucked me up a whole lot, y'know? I've already told you this like...several times in hallucinations and stuf-"
Andrew cut him off again.
"Yeah, yeah...guilty about lettin' your friends down, you're all messed up, not the same person you once were, blah blah, blah. Fuck, bro. I thought Maddy already came around an' slapped some sense into ya? Don't make me get Amato to come around and knock some sense into you."
Adam winced instinctively. His two friends, Adam Amato and Andrew Ponikarovsky - they'd perished in the second version of Danya's program, and there'd been nothing he could have done to save them.
"Jeez. Amato. I swear, sometimes I can't help but think that instead of being figments of my imagination, all these hallucinations are maybe your actual ghosts, who think it's fun to fuckin' torment me."
Grinning, Andrew nodded a bit.
"Well, here's the thing, bro. You're never gonna know, until ya die. Was it your imagination? Was it really a ghost? But the kicker? If you're right, and it's just your imagination? You'll never know. But fuck, man...we're all keepin' tabs on you. Half the fuckin' Barry Coleson folks're just kinda movin' on, but ... hey man, there's still a few of us who're lookin' out for ya. I mean, fuck...people you wouldn't expect are still pokin' around."
Adam looked somewhat amused.
"Provided you're a ghost."
He grinned. "Exactly. I'm not sayin' anything either way, but you'll never know, bro. So think whatcha want, and I'll just fuck with your head a bit."
Putting his hands to his head, Adam groaned.
"You're fucking impossible, you know that? Jeez..."
Andrew only laughed.
"Yeah, well...maybe I am. Anyway, yeah...tons of us, y'know? Amanda's still here, of course. Madelaine you've already seen. Pants and Amato, yeah, those guys're still kickin' around. You shoulda seen the shit-fit Pants threw when he found out he died after flipping a car. It was actually hilarious, bro. Then you got guys like Sidney Crosby, who's stickin' around for...well, I don't know why. He's kind of a whiny little bitch, actually. Dave Jackson asked for his autograph, which I kinda found weird, 'cause...like...he's dead, and all. But hey...to each his own. Yeah, we've been bettin' on eventual cause o'death and all. Needless to say, I've got faith in ya, bud."
Raising an eyebrow, and looking almost amused, Adam held out his hands.
"Well, what is it? What're you betting finally gets me? Gunshot wound? Drowning? Loss of blood?"
Andrew shook his head, and laughed.
"Nah, buddy. Like I said, I've got faith in ya. Hawley's got loss o'blood, Amato's going with the gunshot wound, and River Garraty - yeah, that dude's still around too, he's goin' with drowning. Nah, me? Like I said, I believe in ya, buddy. I've got you croakin' by way of a good ol' fashioned heart attack."
Laughing along with his friend, a little at the morbidity and a little at the aburdity, Adam shook his head.
"You picked last, didn't you?"
Andrew's head sank, and he chuckled sadly.
"Damn straight, bud. Damn straight. Nah, but I've got faith I'll come out okay. Maddy's got old age, but she got ripped on for that..."
~~~
Back in the real world, Adam still lay on the cot, unmoving. But now, instead of the scowl that he'd held on his face before, his expression had slowly turned into an amused smirk, which stayed in place, even as the megaphone from the two outside made almost enough noise to wake the dead, even at its relatively low setting. Adam still slept, but felt far less turmoil than any of his prior sleeps had in quite some time.
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
She stared after him as he broke away...and stumbled slightly. Walking stiffly, he clumsily made his way towards a park fence near a thick cluster of trees and climbed over it. He grunted quietly, as though in pain. Julie watched him in concern...he was limping on one leg, she realized.
Her eyes fell towards the ground...red droplets had fallen into the whiteness where the man had been, leaving a trail.
Men in police uniforms, it seemed, were approaching. Heart racing, Julie kept her eyes downcast, uncomfortably deliberating on what to do. Discreetly, she kept dead silent, shifted a foot...and buried the redness underneath a layer of early-morning snow.
"Over here!" Came the shouts of the approaching policemen. Three of them filled the expanse of snow where Julie was standing. They began to look around. Investigating, searching...
For a while, they paid no heed to Julie, who simply stood there, thinking about what had just happened. Who she had just met. What she had just done. Lip trembling slightly, she stared at the ground, afraid to move as the men surveyed the scene.
"You there. Miss."
Julie froze as she was addressed. One of the men appeared to be dressed in a suit, sharp and tidy. She couldn't quite see his face, as her eyes were firmly affixed to the ground, but she could hear the sharp, metallic noise that came from his pocket...probably his keys or something. He was approaching her.
"Have you seen a man pass by here? Anybody odd or out of place for that matter? Did he have any wounds on him?"
For a while, Julie said nothing, feeling rather nauseous as she frantically deliberated on how to answer. Just as she was about to open her mouth, her voice locked...
That man...he apologized. Helped her up to her feet. Made sure she was alright. Even as he was being hunted. Even though he was hurt.
Julie closed her eyes, trying to keep ahold of her panic. What was she doing, she wondered? This wasn't like her. She was....covering up for a stranger. Perhaps a criminal, of all people. ...Yet, still...
"....He went that way," she stammered, pointing further down the road. In an instant, the men in uniform were hot in pursuit again. The man in the suit, however, hesitated for a moment. Julie could feel a stare of suspicion upon her before he turned to follow.
Taking deep, concentrated breaths to calm herself down, Julie waited until the footfalls against the snow could no longer be heard, before running over to the fence adjacent to the road, where the grove of trees was. Carefully, she made her way over the fence, looking about for any trace of the stranger she had bumped into earlier...well really, he was the one who had bumped into her.
In any case, Julie would later find that she had absolutely no trouble finding him where he lay against a tree, unconscious and injured in the snowdrift. All she had to do was follow the trail of blood, bright red against the snow...
...She didn't remember how long it had taken to pull him up and drag him to a nearby empty lodge, where she tended as best she could to his wounds...
Somewhat drowsily, Julie awoke in the cot where she had been resting, exhausted after finding Adam, bringing him back to the nearest detachment, and then fixing up whatever injuries he'd collected. Lifting her head from her knees, it took her a while to register the fact that she had fallen asleep yet again.
And on her watch, of all things! @_@
In an instant she leapt out of her cot and was up on her feet, looking around wildly to see what she had missed while she'd dozed off. Had anything happened? Did anyone find them? Were they being attacked?
...Julie relaxed when she surveyed her surroundings and realized that none of the above were likely, for everything was as she'd remembered when she was last awake. Adam was as of yet still out cold in his own cot, injuries tended to, now resting. Hopefully somewhat peacefully, Julie thought to herself, blinking a bit.
With a grumble, she placed her palm against the surface of her forehead, shaking her head in self-exasperation. That was stupid....very stupid. The only other person present and on her side at the moment, was as of yet, out of commission. Julie was putting them both in danger, carelessly letting herself fall asleep like that. She paced back and forth across the inside of the building to walk off her frustration... Right, nothing happened. What if something HAD happened? Julie knew that she had to get real, lest they both be killed...
Just as she was about to ponder the dream she just had, Julie was interrupted by voices coming from outside.
In an instant, Julie was right next to the closed door, her back against the wall. Who was there? Was someone coming?
And then Julie heard a voice yet again, one that sounded as though it was electronically amplified. She faintly recalled the megaphone being an issued weapon in some previous version of SOTF....
Well now, how in the world was she supposed to answer such a question? Julie thought to herself. She could alert them to her presence, and that of Adam's.... if they were serious players, they'd storm the place in a split second and put lead through them both! There was also the case where they might NOT be players, but... really, was Julie seriously someone who would take that kind of a risk?
...Julie didn't think she needed an answer for that one.
Crawling over to one of the day packs next to Adam, she fished around inside...until she grabbed ahold of what she had been looking for: The VP70 that she had been designated.
Keeping low, Julie made her way back over to the door, keeping beside it while staying behind the wall, gun in hand. Hm...looked as though it had been fired recently, though there was still ammo inside... good enough. Julie's idea WASN'T to kill anybody...
She nudged the door open a crack, before giving a shout to the people outside without letting them see her.
"Well, maybe there is, and maybe there isn't. I don't know about what sort of help you're offering, but if you're looking for a large group like this one to kick up your kill count a few notches, I suggest you turn around and look somewhere else. Other than that..."
She opened the door slightly wider, so that she could point the gun through the crack it formed, aiming directly towards them.
"I want to see your hands up and your weapons down, both of them, before I come out there."
Her eyes fell towards the ground...red droplets had fallen into the whiteness where the man had been, leaving a trail.
Men in police uniforms, it seemed, were approaching. Heart racing, Julie kept her eyes downcast, uncomfortably deliberating on what to do. Discreetly, she kept dead silent, shifted a foot...and buried the redness underneath a layer of early-morning snow.
"Over here!" Came the shouts of the approaching policemen. Three of them filled the expanse of snow where Julie was standing. They began to look around. Investigating, searching...
For a while, they paid no heed to Julie, who simply stood there, thinking about what had just happened. Who she had just met. What she had just done. Lip trembling slightly, she stared at the ground, afraid to move as the men surveyed the scene.
"You there. Miss."
Julie froze as she was addressed. One of the men appeared to be dressed in a suit, sharp and tidy. She couldn't quite see his face, as her eyes were firmly affixed to the ground, but she could hear the sharp, metallic noise that came from his pocket...probably his keys or something. He was approaching her.
"Have you seen a man pass by here? Anybody odd or out of place for that matter? Did he have any wounds on him?"
For a while, Julie said nothing, feeling rather nauseous as she frantically deliberated on how to answer. Just as she was about to open her mouth, her voice locked...
That man...he apologized. Helped her up to her feet. Made sure she was alright. Even as he was being hunted. Even though he was hurt.
Julie closed her eyes, trying to keep ahold of her panic. What was she doing, she wondered? This wasn't like her. She was....covering up for a stranger. Perhaps a criminal, of all people. ...Yet, still...
"....He went that way," she stammered, pointing further down the road. In an instant, the men in uniform were hot in pursuit again. The man in the suit, however, hesitated for a moment. Julie could feel a stare of suspicion upon her before he turned to follow.
Taking deep, concentrated breaths to calm herself down, Julie waited until the footfalls against the snow could no longer be heard, before running over to the fence adjacent to the road, where the grove of trees was. Carefully, she made her way over the fence, looking about for any trace of the stranger she had bumped into earlier...well really, he was the one who had bumped into her.
In any case, Julie would later find that she had absolutely no trouble finding him where he lay against a tree, unconscious and injured in the snowdrift. All she had to do was follow the trail of blood, bright red against the snow...
...She didn't remember how long it had taken to pull him up and drag him to a nearby empty lodge, where she tended as best she could to his wounds...
Somewhat drowsily, Julie awoke in the cot where she had been resting, exhausted after finding Adam, bringing him back to the nearest detachment, and then fixing up whatever injuries he'd collected. Lifting her head from her knees, it took her a while to register the fact that she had fallen asleep yet again.
And on her watch, of all things! @_@
In an instant she leapt out of her cot and was up on her feet, looking around wildly to see what she had missed while she'd dozed off. Had anything happened? Did anyone find them? Were they being attacked?
...Julie relaxed when she surveyed her surroundings and realized that none of the above were likely, for everything was as she'd remembered when she was last awake. Adam was as of yet still out cold in his own cot, injuries tended to, now resting. Hopefully somewhat peacefully, Julie thought to herself, blinking a bit.
With a grumble, she placed her palm against the surface of her forehead, shaking her head in self-exasperation. That was stupid....very stupid. The only other person present and on her side at the moment, was as of yet, out of commission. Julie was putting them both in danger, carelessly letting herself fall asleep like that. She paced back and forth across the inside of the building to walk off her frustration... Right, nothing happened. What if something HAD happened? Julie knew that she had to get real, lest they both be killed...
Just as she was about to ponder the dream she just had, Julie was interrupted by voices coming from outside.
In an instant, Julie was right next to the closed door, her back against the wall. Who was there? Was someone coming?
And then Julie heard a voice yet again, one that sounded as though it was electronically amplified. She faintly recalled the megaphone being an issued weapon in some previous version of SOTF....
Well now, how in the world was she supposed to answer such a question? Julie thought to herself. She could alert them to her presence, and that of Adam's.... if they were serious players, they'd storm the place in a split second and put lead through them both! There was also the case where they might NOT be players, but... really, was Julie seriously someone who would take that kind of a risk?
...Julie didn't think she needed an answer for that one.
Crawling over to one of the day packs next to Adam, she fished around inside...until she grabbed ahold of what she had been looking for: The VP70 that she had been designated.
Keeping low, Julie made her way back over to the door, keeping beside it while staying behind the wall, gun in hand. Hm...looked as though it had been fired recently, though there was still ammo inside... good enough. Julie's idea WASN'T to kill anybody...
She nudged the door open a crack, before giving a shout to the people outside without letting them see her.
"Well, maybe there is, and maybe there isn't. I don't know about what sort of help you're offering, but if you're looking for a large group like this one to kick up your kill count a few notches, I suggest you turn around and look somewhere else. Other than that..."
She opened the door slightly wider, so that she could point the gun through the crack it formed, aiming directly towards them.
"I want to see your hands up and your weapons down, both of them, before I come out there."
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.
Sean was a little taken aback at the abruptness of the arrival of Kyrie Joseph, somebody who he considered to be a part of Southridge's resident hippie community - which included such names as Quale Hutchinson, among others. There seemed to be a lot of peaceful people at the school, and Sean took that to heart. If people like Kyrie were still going around, telling everyone their messages and refusing to take part, he had no doubt that the game's progress would be stymied. It was an encouraging thought.
Sean only wished that he believed it was true.
It was an impossible dream. Although Sean remained hopeful that there was a way to make it off the island, that by no means meant the game was not continuing. Fact was, no kills in one day meant island-wide death. Since it was Day Three, by default, the game had to be proceeding, otherwise they would all have been blown to smithereens already and Danya would have had a huge debacle on his hands. Funny that to cause the man behind it all a minor inconvenience would be to have every single member of Southridge High School's Graduating class killed at a stroke. Apart from, of course, those lucky few who were missing the senior trip. And that number would be painfully small, Simon knew: too much time and effort had been put into organisation and fundraising for this trip to just throw it all away. People would attend at all costs.
Kyrie's amplified voice made Sean wince. Lowest setting it may have been, but his headache was still punishing him. You didn't bust open your head on a rock - next to your temple no less, and not feel any adverse effects for it. Sean actually stumbled a little as his head pounded, and he bean to feel rather dizzy. He needed sleep. Hell, he needed medical attention. Being knocked out the way he was definitely wasn't good for you, and Sean was feeling it, feeling it bad.
No matter how bad he was feeling though, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when a familiar voice called out from the barracks. Julie Mikan. The last time Sean had seen her she was being dragged away by Adam after shooting somebody in the damn head. Amusing for her to be suspicious of people who were playing.
"Don't you think that's a little contradictory coming from you Julie? I mean, I distnictly recall you... oh I dunno, shooting somebody in the head the last time we met up," Sean staggered slightly, and only stopped himself from falling by jabbing the poker into the ground as a prop. "As for weapons... unless you think I'm going to pull a ninja stunt and javelin you from all the way over here with this poker, you've got nothing to fear from me. But if you insist..." Sean tossed the poker to the ground, almost falling over as he did. The glass knife joined it a moment later. "And if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to collapse now,"
Which he did, without ceremony, pitching forward to land face down on the ground, exhaustion and injury taking their toll.
Sean only wished that he believed it was true.
It was an impossible dream. Although Sean remained hopeful that there was a way to make it off the island, that by no means meant the game was not continuing. Fact was, no kills in one day meant island-wide death. Since it was Day Three, by default, the game had to be proceeding, otherwise they would all have been blown to smithereens already and Danya would have had a huge debacle on his hands. Funny that to cause the man behind it all a minor inconvenience would be to have every single member of Southridge High School's Graduating class killed at a stroke. Apart from, of course, those lucky few who were missing the senior trip. And that number would be painfully small, Simon knew: too much time and effort had been put into organisation and fundraising for this trip to just throw it all away. People would attend at all costs.
Kyrie's amplified voice made Sean wince. Lowest setting it may have been, but his headache was still punishing him. You didn't bust open your head on a rock - next to your temple no less, and not feel any adverse effects for it. Sean actually stumbled a little as his head pounded, and he bean to feel rather dizzy. He needed sleep. Hell, he needed medical attention. Being knocked out the way he was definitely wasn't good for you, and Sean was feeling it, feeling it bad.
No matter how bad he was feeling though, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when a familiar voice called out from the barracks. Julie Mikan. The last time Sean had seen her she was being dragged away by Adam after shooting somebody in the damn head. Amusing for her to be suspicious of people who were playing.
"Don't you think that's a little contradictory coming from you Julie? I mean, I distnictly recall you... oh I dunno, shooting somebody in the head the last time we met up," Sean staggered slightly, and only stopped himself from falling by jabbing the poker into the ground as a prop. "As for weapons... unless you think I'm going to pull a ninja stunt and javelin you from all the way over here with this poker, you've got nothing to fear from me. But if you insist..." Sean tossed the poker to the ground, almost falling over as he did. The glass knife joined it a moment later. "And if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to collapse now,"
Which he did, without ceremony, pitching forward to land face down on the ground, exhaustion and injury taking their toll.
Kyrie was just a bit surprised when she found herself looking at the barrel of a gun being pointed at both her and Sean. She sighed slightly and refused to make any sudden moves. Top die now would be such a waste. She wasn't going to let this system beat her, even if it had beaten some of the others... The voice coming from inside the building told them to throw their weapons to the ground. Kyrie willingly complied.
"All I have is the megaphone. We aren't players. You can trust us." Kyrie raised her hands up in surrender, complying to the girl's second request. It was when Sean started to yell and taunt the other girl that Kyrie realized what a fool he was. He gave a name to the voice. Julie Mikan.
Apparently she had killed someone. That didn't mean anything positive for the two of them. Sean also revealed his weapon, a fireplace poker. He threw that down along with a glass shank he must have taken from a previous location. Kyrie let out a breath of relief. Until Sean abruptly passed out however.
"Holy... Sean!" She quickly moved over to his body and flipped him onto his back. "Christ... Help, please!" She called out to Julie.
"All I have is the megaphone. We aren't players. You can trust us." Kyrie raised her hands up in surrender, complying to the girl's second request. It was when Sean started to yell and taunt the other girl that Kyrie realized what a fool he was. He gave a name to the voice. Julie Mikan.
Apparently she had killed someone. That didn't mean anything positive for the two of them. Sean also revealed his weapon, a fireplace poker. He threw that down along with a glass shank he must have taken from a previous location. Kyrie let out a breath of relief. Until Sean abruptly passed out however.
"Holy... Sean!" She quickly moved over to his body and flipped him onto his back. "Christ... Help, please!" She called out to Julie.
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"Ughhhnhhh..."
As consciousness began to swirl back into place around Adam Dodd, he immediately realized that he wasn't where he'd left himself. After the explosions that'd vaporized both one of the other barracks buildings and Gabriel Theobaldt respectively, Adam had collected what he could from the dead, dragged himself behind a building, and had collapsed, unable to keep himself going on adrenaline any longer. But instead of the bristly grass of the outdoors, he felt a hard bunk underneath his back, and a blanket haphazardly lying overtop of him. As the world came back into focus, Adam half wondered if things were going to end up like they had the last time he'd passed out.
If Cody Jenson's sitting in front of me right now, I'm gonna put a fuckin' bullet in my own head. Without a dou-
Adam interrupted his own thought when he heard voices in the immediate viscinity of the building. They were muffled, obviously coming from outside, but they seemed panicked and in some sort of obvious distress. Of course, that could be completely explainable, depending upon whom was currently inside of the building with him - if anyone at all. To be honest, Adam had only half-expected Julie to return, especially after the way they'd met and Adam had essentially dragged her away from the bridge...but as he gingerly sat up to gauge how badly hurt he'd been, he saw that indeed, the back of Julie's head seemed to be standing at the doorway, pointing a pistol out the door and speaking to whomever was outside.
Wow...here I was, thinking the worst about someone, and they actually kept their fuckin' word and came back to help me out. That's...that's really quite touching, actually. I'll have to thank her, after I figure out what the hell mess seems to be happening outside...
Tossing the blanket to the side of the cot, Adam swung himself around and grimaced as his body ached as he slowly stood up. If he knew how it felt like to be smoked by a ten ton truck, Adam imagined that he'd probably be comparing how he felt now. The first time around, he'd never managed to sit beside an explosion, and most of his wounds had been either knife or stab wounds.
Gotta try everything once, I guess. Fucking smarmy tryer-outers. I'd much rather stick with 'health and good fortune', but that's just me.
Trying his best to ignore the pain, Adam's eyes narrowed as he saw that the gun Julie was wielding was the one she'd previously given him in exchange for the knife. This, of course, meant that she also had whatever she'd recieved as a prize as well as Adam's gun, and while he'd come into contact with a sword and some grenades, he sincerely hoped she wasn't planning on keeping it, especially if she'd gotten any kind of-
"Whoa."
Seeing the submachine gun on the table was something that stopped him dead in his tracks, and even brought back familiar memories. Adam'd had something of a submachine-gun duel in his prior experiences, and it had been the last kill he'd been forced to do in order to win the game.
And he almost beat me at my own game, too...I cheated, but he cheated a lot better than I did and it almost cost me everything...
Shrugging a bit, somewhat confused as to why Julie wasn't wielding the more powerful submachine gun, Adam didn't know exactly what model, but he knew that the calibur looked like a 9mm, which was good, because that meant that the bullets would likely be compatible with many of the pistols found around the game.
Useful, but if she's not gonna use it, well, I don't mind if I do...
Picking up the gun, Adam cocked it, remembering the familiar feeling of how to do it almost immediately. After ensuring the gun was loaded, he sauntered over behind Julie and while making sure to move into her line of sight before she did it, he gently put his hand on her back, to let her know he was there and awake, but in such a way that wouldn't get him shot.
Managing a weak smile as he stood slightly behind her, he gestured to the direction of the people outside, and raised an eyebrow. His words were silly, but that was Adam's way of dealing with the situation - always had been, always would be. In the end, it didn't matter what he said, as long as she got his message.
"Hey honey, sorry I slept in, there. Kids kept me up all night long. Sometimes I wondered why we even had 'em, y'know? I see you went shopping, picked yourself up something nice..."
As he said this, he held up the submachine gun, smirking a bit and nodding in approval. Again, he turned his glance towards the door. While he couldn't see what was outside, he relied that Julie would make a good judgement call on what to do. She'd seemed to be a solid ally so far, and while obviously had no idea how to conduct herself in this situation, she was definitely trustworthy, of his Adam was now certain.
"Now, what's happening, the neighbours want to join us for dinner again? Or is it some nasty door-to-door salesman. Remember, we don't want any, whatever they're selling!"
Suitably satisfied with his almost bizarre diatribe, Adam lowered his voice and hissed in a barely audible whisper, so only Julie could hear him.
"What's going on? Are we in trouble?"
As consciousness began to swirl back into place around Adam Dodd, he immediately realized that he wasn't where he'd left himself. After the explosions that'd vaporized both one of the other barracks buildings and Gabriel Theobaldt respectively, Adam had collected what he could from the dead, dragged himself behind a building, and had collapsed, unable to keep himself going on adrenaline any longer. But instead of the bristly grass of the outdoors, he felt a hard bunk underneath his back, and a blanket haphazardly lying overtop of him. As the world came back into focus, Adam half wondered if things were going to end up like they had the last time he'd passed out.
If Cody Jenson's sitting in front of me right now, I'm gonna put a fuckin' bullet in my own head. Without a dou-
Adam interrupted his own thought when he heard voices in the immediate viscinity of the building. They were muffled, obviously coming from outside, but they seemed panicked and in some sort of obvious distress. Of course, that could be completely explainable, depending upon whom was currently inside of the building with him - if anyone at all. To be honest, Adam had only half-expected Julie to return, especially after the way they'd met and Adam had essentially dragged her away from the bridge...but as he gingerly sat up to gauge how badly hurt he'd been, he saw that indeed, the back of Julie's head seemed to be standing at the doorway, pointing a pistol out the door and speaking to whomever was outside.
Wow...here I was, thinking the worst about someone, and they actually kept their fuckin' word and came back to help me out. That's...that's really quite touching, actually. I'll have to thank her, after I figure out what the hell mess seems to be happening outside...
Tossing the blanket to the side of the cot, Adam swung himself around and grimaced as his body ached as he slowly stood up. If he knew how it felt like to be smoked by a ten ton truck, Adam imagined that he'd probably be comparing how he felt now. The first time around, he'd never managed to sit beside an explosion, and most of his wounds had been either knife or stab wounds.
Gotta try everything once, I guess. Fucking smarmy tryer-outers. I'd much rather stick with 'health and good fortune', but that's just me.
Trying his best to ignore the pain, Adam's eyes narrowed as he saw that the gun Julie was wielding was the one she'd previously given him in exchange for the knife. This, of course, meant that she also had whatever she'd recieved as a prize as well as Adam's gun, and while he'd come into contact with a sword and some grenades, he sincerely hoped she wasn't planning on keeping it, especially if she'd gotten any kind of-
"Whoa."
Seeing the submachine gun on the table was something that stopped him dead in his tracks, and even brought back familiar memories. Adam'd had something of a submachine-gun duel in his prior experiences, and it had been the last kill he'd been forced to do in order to win the game.
And he almost beat me at my own game, too...I cheated, but he cheated a lot better than I did and it almost cost me everything...
Shrugging a bit, somewhat confused as to why Julie wasn't wielding the more powerful submachine gun, Adam didn't know exactly what model, but he knew that the calibur looked like a 9mm, which was good, because that meant that the bullets would likely be compatible with many of the pistols found around the game.
Useful, but if she's not gonna use it, well, I don't mind if I do...
Picking up the gun, Adam cocked it, remembering the familiar feeling of how to do it almost immediately. After ensuring the gun was loaded, he sauntered over behind Julie and while making sure to move into her line of sight before she did it, he gently put his hand on her back, to let her know he was there and awake, but in such a way that wouldn't get him shot.
Managing a weak smile as he stood slightly behind her, he gestured to the direction of the people outside, and raised an eyebrow. His words were silly, but that was Adam's way of dealing with the situation - always had been, always would be. In the end, it didn't matter what he said, as long as she got his message.
"Hey honey, sorry I slept in, there. Kids kept me up all night long. Sometimes I wondered why we even had 'em, y'know? I see you went shopping, picked yourself up something nice..."
As he said this, he held up the submachine gun, smirking a bit and nodding in approval. Again, he turned his glance towards the door. While he couldn't see what was outside, he relied that Julie would make a good judgement call on what to do. She'd seemed to be a solid ally so far, and while obviously had no idea how to conduct herself in this situation, she was definitely trustworthy, of his Adam was now certain.
"Now, what's happening, the neighbours want to join us for dinner again? Or is it some nasty door-to-door salesman. Remember, we don't want any, whatever they're selling!"
Suitably satisfied with his almost bizarre diatribe, Adam lowered his voice and hissed in a barely audible whisper, so only Julie could hear him.
"What's going on? Are we in trouble?"
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
Julie scowled somewhat as she listened closely to the voices up ahead. One of them DID seem rather familiar, as though she had heard it quite recently. She took a quick peak out of the door, showing her face fully, if only for a brief moment before ducking back into the safety of the building.
Oh. It was that Sean person. Apparently, he remembered her as well, more specifically the fact that she was the killer of Owen Fontaine. Probably a fact that she did not need to hear right now, but surely it was to be expected. Her name had been announced to all, and she was a known killer. Already the seeds of suspicion were growing. The game was on.
And who was that other girl? Ah, Julie recognized her face as that Kyrie girl. Kyrie Joseph. Hm, Julie thought she would have recognized her by the accent...
Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard a thud outside, and Kyrie's cries for help. It seemed as though Sean had passed out. Was he hurt or something? Julie didn't notice any serious injury on him, but then she hadn't bothered to look close enough. As Kyrie pleaded, Julie frowned in slight exasperation. Oh, of all the things...
Well, she suppose she ought to help a fellow classmate if he was hurt, but what if they were trying to lure her out into the open? Now if a certain red-headed moron would get up and haul his lazy ass off the cot...
Footfalls behind her made her turn around.
Ah, speak of the devil, look who's up. She remarked inwardly, noting the fact that Adam was staring in awe at the weapon she'd received as a prize for the dubious honour of acheiving the so-called 'best kill'. Not minding much as he took it from the table, she watched as he approached. Should he really be standing after being knocked out from an explosion? Probably not, but Julie wouldn't mind for some company right around now. One that wasn't comatose, anyways.
Julie raised an eyebrow as he spoke. Kids? Shopping? What? ....Oh. Right, he was either being a sarcastic moron, hit himself too hard in the head, or wasn't talking straight on purpose to confuse their visitors. Probably all of the above, Julie commented to herself, tactfully keeping her thoughts silent.
"Now, what's happening, the neighbours want to join us for dinner again? Or is it some nasty door-to-door salesman. Remember, we don't want any, whatever they're selling!"
She couldn't help but smile a bit wryly.
"You know...?" Julie replied thoughtfully, glancing out the door. "I think... it's a little bit of Column A and a little Column B."
Indicating with a jerk of her head towards the pair outside, she asked him, "Think we ought to help them? They don't seem to have anything dangerous on them." If anything, we have a lot more toys than they do, but that wasn't something they needed to know, riiiiight?
"If I go out there, you think you'll be able to cover me with that?"
Oh. It was that Sean person. Apparently, he remembered her as well, more specifically the fact that she was the killer of Owen Fontaine. Probably a fact that she did not need to hear right now, but surely it was to be expected. Her name had been announced to all, and she was a known killer. Already the seeds of suspicion were growing. The game was on.
And who was that other girl? Ah, Julie recognized her face as that Kyrie girl. Kyrie Joseph. Hm, Julie thought she would have recognized her by the accent...
Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard a thud outside, and Kyrie's cries for help. It seemed as though Sean had passed out. Was he hurt or something? Julie didn't notice any serious injury on him, but then she hadn't bothered to look close enough. As Kyrie pleaded, Julie frowned in slight exasperation. Oh, of all the things...
Well, she suppose she ought to help a fellow classmate if he was hurt, but what if they were trying to lure her out into the open? Now if a certain red-headed moron would get up and haul his lazy ass off the cot...
Footfalls behind her made her turn around.
Ah, speak of the devil, look who's up. She remarked inwardly, noting the fact that Adam was staring in awe at the weapon she'd received as a prize for the dubious honour of acheiving the so-called 'best kill'. Not minding much as he took it from the table, she watched as he approached. Should he really be standing after being knocked out from an explosion? Probably not, but Julie wouldn't mind for some company right around now. One that wasn't comatose, anyways.
Julie raised an eyebrow as he spoke. Kids? Shopping? What? ....Oh. Right, he was either being a sarcastic moron, hit himself too hard in the head, or wasn't talking straight on purpose to confuse their visitors. Probably all of the above, Julie commented to herself, tactfully keeping her thoughts silent.
"Now, what's happening, the neighbours want to join us for dinner again? Or is it some nasty door-to-door salesman. Remember, we don't want any, whatever they're selling!"
She couldn't help but smile a bit wryly.
"You know...?" Julie replied thoughtfully, glancing out the door. "I think... it's a little bit of Column A and a little Column B."
Indicating with a jerk of her head towards the pair outside, she asked him, "Think we ought to help them? They don't seem to have anything dangerous on them." If anything, we have a lot more toys than they do, but that wasn't something they needed to know, riiiiight?
"If I go out there, you think you'll be able to cover me with that?"
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Sean hadn't been surprised that he had wound up on the floor, the whole world had seemed to be spinning wildly around him and as a rather disconcerting plus to that half of the said wildly spinning world appeared to have gone into grayscale. Lying face down with his eyes closed was almost a mercy... and then Kyrie had to ruin it.
"Ah...! Jesus Christ girl can't you keep it down for a couple of seconds?" Sean would have shouted, but he had the feeling that his head would take exception to that kind of display of volume and detonate his brain in protest. Sean instead managed to just about groan his protest as Kyrie flipped him over and caught a glimpse of her concerned face before screwing his eyes shut tight. Sean raised one hand to his head and felt around his temple. The bandage was wet.
Shit... bleeding again.
"Seriously..." Sean murmured, opening his eyes again and shuffling into a more upright position. "My head hurts like fuck, being loud just makes it worse..." Suddenly everything span again, Sean's eyes rolled back and he fell back with a thud from his sitting up position. Sean swore, rolled over, and levered himself to his knees with both hands, he reached out for his poker, grasped it like a lifeline, then used it to prop himself up.
Something trickled down his cheek.
Sean swayed for a moment, but managed to stop himself falling over again. He was next to doubled over, and something swung in front of his eyes, blurred and indistinct. It took Sean a few moments to realise it was the crucifix he wore around his neck. Even as he looked on, a bead of blood dropped from his face and splashed onto the small ornament.
He was less worried as to the religious implications of that than the fact that, after two - almost three days of sporting it, his injury had decided to cripple him. Why the hell had it started bleeding again anyway? Sean sighed as his vision did another barrell roll and caused him to stumble several steps. A well aimed poke would knock him down now. The way he was feeling, Sean wished he had fainted.
Fuck this...
"Ah...! Jesus Christ girl can't you keep it down for a couple of seconds?" Sean would have shouted, but he had the feeling that his head would take exception to that kind of display of volume and detonate his brain in protest. Sean instead managed to just about groan his protest as Kyrie flipped him over and caught a glimpse of her concerned face before screwing his eyes shut tight. Sean raised one hand to his head and felt around his temple. The bandage was wet.
Shit... bleeding again.
"Seriously..." Sean murmured, opening his eyes again and shuffling into a more upright position. "My head hurts like fuck, being loud just makes it worse..." Suddenly everything span again, Sean's eyes rolled back and he fell back with a thud from his sitting up position. Sean swore, rolled over, and levered himself to his knees with both hands, he reached out for his poker, grasped it like a lifeline, then used it to prop himself up.
Something trickled down his cheek.
Sean swayed for a moment, but managed to stop himself falling over again. He was next to doubled over, and something swung in front of his eyes, blurred and indistinct. It took Sean a few moments to realise it was the crucifix he wore around his neck. Even as he looked on, a bead of blood dropped from his face and splashed onto the small ornament.
He was less worried as to the religious implications of that than the fact that, after two - almost three days of sporting it, his injury had decided to cripple him. Why the hell had it started bleeding again anyway? Sean sighed as his vision did another barrell roll and caused him to stumble several steps. A well aimed poke would knock him down now. The way he was feeling, Sean wished he had fainted.
Fuck this...
((Sorry to jump ahead but I figure I'll do it so we can do something other that sit here and plink at each other))
Adam nodded at Julie's suggestion about the two outside being potentially dangerous, but the corners of his mouth lowered somewhat in a frown. Sure, it was a good plan - and had a good-natured feeling to it, but if they were indeed faking it, Adam and Julie might be in trouble; Julie especially. Of course, if they were truly in jeopardy, that might be a risk that they'd have to take. Hefting the submachine gun, Adam nodded again.
"Alright, go for it. I can take care of myself with one of these, definitely. It won't be the first time I've fired one, if it comes to that. But...look, if it comes to that at all? I want you to try and get the fuck out of the way. Like, just try and get out of plain sight. The thing with these is that they aren't terribly accurate if you hold down the trigger, and the bullets are liable to go where you don't want 'em to. I wouldn't want to accidentally shoot ya, or anything."
Glancing outside for a split-second, Adam readied himself, and smiled a bit at Julie.
"Alright, let's deal with this little problem, shall we?"
Adam nodded at Julie's suggestion about the two outside being potentially dangerous, but the corners of his mouth lowered somewhat in a frown. Sure, it was a good plan - and had a good-natured feeling to it, but if they were indeed faking it, Adam and Julie might be in trouble; Julie especially. Of course, if they were truly in jeopardy, that might be a risk that they'd have to take. Hefting the submachine gun, Adam nodded again.
"Alright, go for it. I can take care of myself with one of these, definitely. It won't be the first time I've fired one, if it comes to that. But...look, if it comes to that at all? I want you to try and get the fuck out of the way. Like, just try and get out of plain sight. The thing with these is that they aren't terribly accurate if you hold down the trigger, and the bullets are liable to go where you don't want 'em to. I wouldn't want to accidentally shoot ya, or anything."
Glancing outside for a split-second, Adam readied himself, and smiled a bit at Julie.
"Alright, let's deal with this little problem, shall we?"
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
Taking a glance towards Adam behind her over her shoulder, Julie looked towards the submachine gun in his hand.
"Yeah, um. I don't suppose it WOULD be remotely pleasant being in the firing-path of that thing." She remarked with a slightly raised eyebrow. "But you're right, if anything happens I'll leave it up to you...and um, leap to the side as best I can. Something like that."
Accident or no, being shot at is something that I would take very...VERY personally, Julie thought wryly to herself.
For a moment there, she thought it ironic, and a bit exasperating. The firearm was something that she had won, and Adam was the one using it first? What's up with that?
Well come to think of it, the thought was somewhat inappropriate, given the fact that it was a firearm, and that she'd won it by killing someone....but there was really no time to think about that right now, was there?
"Right, sure. I'm off then." Julie gave him a nod before opening the door wide enough only to let herself through. Hurrying over towards the fallen boy, holding the handgun and the daypack she'd grabbed on her way out, she approached the pair cautiously, keeping the firearm trained on Kyrie.
"..."
Julie regarded her with a somewhat suspicious glance. She didn't seem to be armed with anything other than that megaphone. Julie doubted that she was a threat, unless the other girl planned on sound-blasting her to death... but really, who could ever know? Better to be safe than ...well, dead, since there was probably no time to be sorry.
She looked towards Sean, who was clearly stumbling around with a wound on his head. Her sharp features showed concern. Frowning slightly, she told him, "Don't move." while using a free hand to rummage through her daypack and pull out the first aid kit. She was slightly distracted, but she could count on Adam to jump in if things went wrong, yes?
I suppose that's how allies are supposed to be useful in this game. Julie thought to herself. Nothing like having someone to be the eyes at the back of your head. As long as they're not pointing a gun at it anyways.
"Look, can you put that poker down so I can change that bandage for you? Sit down if you have to." The injury didn't look pleasant in the least...wherever it had come from.
The fresh gauze and bandage were in her hand now. Looking towards Kyrie, Julie asked her sharply, "Think you could help? By the way, turn that thing down." She gestured towards the megaphone. "No offense meant? But I'd rather not attract unnecessary company."
"Yeah, um. I don't suppose it WOULD be remotely pleasant being in the firing-path of that thing." She remarked with a slightly raised eyebrow. "But you're right, if anything happens I'll leave it up to you...and um, leap to the side as best I can. Something like that."
Accident or no, being shot at is something that I would take very...VERY personally, Julie thought wryly to herself.
For a moment there, she thought it ironic, and a bit exasperating. The firearm was something that she had won, and Adam was the one using it first? What's up with that?
Well come to think of it, the thought was somewhat inappropriate, given the fact that it was a firearm, and that she'd won it by killing someone....but there was really no time to think about that right now, was there?
"Right, sure. I'm off then." Julie gave him a nod before opening the door wide enough only to let herself through. Hurrying over towards the fallen boy, holding the handgun and the daypack she'd grabbed on her way out, she approached the pair cautiously, keeping the firearm trained on Kyrie.
"..."
Julie regarded her with a somewhat suspicious glance. She didn't seem to be armed with anything other than that megaphone. Julie doubted that she was a threat, unless the other girl planned on sound-blasting her to death... but really, who could ever know? Better to be safe than ...well, dead, since there was probably no time to be sorry.
She looked towards Sean, who was clearly stumbling around with a wound on his head. Her sharp features showed concern. Frowning slightly, she told him, "Don't move." while using a free hand to rummage through her daypack and pull out the first aid kit. She was slightly distracted, but she could count on Adam to jump in if things went wrong, yes?
I suppose that's how allies are supposed to be useful in this game. Julie thought to herself. Nothing like having someone to be the eyes at the back of your head. As long as they're not pointing a gun at it anyways.
"Look, can you put that poker down so I can change that bandage for you? Sit down if you have to." The injury didn't look pleasant in the least...wherever it had come from.
The fresh gauze and bandage were in her hand now. Looking towards Kyrie, Julie asked her sharply, "Think you could help? By the way, turn that thing down." She gestured towards the megaphone. "No offense meant? But I'd rather not attract unnecessary company."
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