And what if you don't close?

Day 1, Night; One-shot

Unlike the east side of the village, the west side of the housing has remained in much the same condition it was left in. The houses here are all in the same state as they were when they were first built, the identical houses all sitting in identical rows with the only difference being their color. The interior of the houses all share the same layout, with a shared living area/kitchen and a separate bedroom. The state of these rooms is surprisingly clean and consistent throughout the western side of the village as well, with all the beds appearing to have been made and the houses tidied, with chairs tucked into the kitchen table before the residents departed.

Thread limit: 2
Post Reply
User avatar
Catche Jagger
Posts: 294
Joined: Thu May 23, 2019 12:39 am

And what if you don't close?

#1

Post by Catche Jagger »

((Thomas Buckley continued from Why? I don't like you.))

Some time had passed since the Thomas and the others had departed from the beach and night had fallen upon the island before they had reached the Infirmary. It was decided that they had likely overshot their intended destination and so the group decided to take refuge within one of the nearby homes.

Thomas couldn’t sleep, though. His mind was like a live wire, buzzing with notions, ideas, concerns, all of it. He still had no plan beyond going to the Infirmary with the others, which still troubled him deeply.

Gathering his personal pack, Thomas attempted to quietly step outside and clear his head, thinking as he paced about.

Are you still going to fixate on some long-shot escape plan? Maybe it turns out no one killed come the announcements and everyone’s head gets popped regardless.

He hadn’t really even thought much beyond himself and the little gang that surrounded him. What else could be happening on the island that he was missing? And what about the people he knew out there, his friends? He had been so damn selfish, consumed by his own crap the he hadn’t thought of anyone else!

Sakurako’s out there. Maybe that’s what you do? You go and you find her and you tell her how you feel. That’s what people who’re thrown into certain doom do, right? They find the people they’ve had a crush on for fucking ages and tell them how they feel.

No, that was a ridiculous idea. First off, if he died as he stumbled around blindly as he tried to find her it’d be just as pointless as anything else. Secondly, it was exceedingly likely that he’d go to her only to learn what he’d assumed all along: she saw him as a friend and nothing more. Thirdly, what if she said yes, but that was because her friend who she cared about had come up to her and made his final request that she validate his weird teenage feelings and she’d feel shitty for saying no?

Yeah, bad idea. Sakurako confession plan is a no-go.

But if he was considering an escape of some kind, he’d have to actually come up with some sort of plausible plan, and even then he’d have to be exceedingly careful about how it was plotted and executed, because the people with the detonator for the bomb around his neck were watching his every move.

First order of business, then, would be understanding the degree to which he was being watched. He needed to list the resources the terrorists explicitly laid out for tracking the students.

1) They were gathering visual information through cameras, presumably placed all across the island.

2) They were explicitly tracking the vitals of everyone on the island so they knew who was alive or dead.

3) Sound was being recorded in addition to the video. Presumably with microphones

But where were the microphones? His fingers found the collar around his neck and ran along its metallic surface. Maybe someone had said something about recording or something. That’s how it was on reality shows and TV interviews, right? They put a microphone on the collar of someone’s shirt or somewhere thereabouts?

It seemed too simple, though. That meant that taking off the collars would take away two out of three methods of tracking, as well as removing the primary means of the terrorist’s control over the subject.

But it’s also a fucking bomb. Do you happen to know a high schooler that can disarm a bomb?

Thomas sank again. Yeah, dealing with the collars was a no go, probably.

However, if he wasn’t going to do anything with that, then what were the options? The most intuitive option would be setting a signal fire and hoping someone would see it, since that would be something that anyone had the skill to pull off.

And the problem with that is that the terrorists are going to blow the collar of anyone they catch trying to do that.

So, in order to do that, one would have to do so without being seen doing it or heard talking about it. Not exactly a simple prospect.

Maybe.... He could create a written message? He’d brought a planner and pens with him on the trip, maybe he could use that! Quickly taking off his pack and beginning to dig through it, he spotted a change of clothes, what remained of a box of Cheez-Its, some gum, but no planner or pens.

They’d taken them.

Thomas dropped the pack as his hands tightened into fists. “Damn it!” He hissed, angrily striking at the side of his own head with his palm, “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”

Of course they’d taken his writing supplies! This was Survival of the Fittest! The terrorist running this had been operating freely for over a decade. They had accounted for things like that, obviously.

But they didn’t sterilize the island, right? Maybe there’s paper and such in the Infirmary. They left animals that could damage their equipment to move freely about the island, right?

Okay, so the possibly in-development escape plan remained on the table for now, though the fact that Sean had been allowed to keep his lighter left Thomas with a lingering suspicion that there might be some further checks against fires that he had no clue about.

With that much settled, his gaze shifted back to the house where the others rested. Would they go along with a risky, incomplete escape plot? Should he even let them in on such a plot?

Regarding the issue of risk, it shouldn’t be a problem on a logical level, he assumed. Even if such a plot had a 1% chance of success, it was still a better bet than playing this game and having to become, like, murderers.

However, when focusing on this group in particular, Thomas couldn’t help but feel some doubts. Actually, one doubt in particular. While Sean and Desiree seemed to be on the level, he couldn’t help but be concerned about Lucas. Something about the guy bothered him, and shouldn’t he take that as a sign or something?

You’re kinda fucked up too, though? Weren’t you planning to blow your own brains out this morning. It’s kind of unfair to crap on his issues while ignoring your own, isn’t it? Speck in your neighbor’s eye and all that.

It was really annoying when he remembered Bible stuff that made him guilty. Fine, he’d try to stick with Lucas for however long the guy would stick with him. That was fair.

~~~

Thomas spent further time trying to formulate a plan, but found that his mind was simply running in circles, too tired to effectively think up any more useful information. Frustrated and worried that someone might notice that he was on and get concerned, Thomas retired for the night, intending to pick up this train of thought in the morning.

((Thomas Buckley continued in Right Turn at Albuquerque))
[+] sig
[+] V7
ImageB078 - Thomas Buckley: "Holy- yes, I am scared because I am not ignorant to the world around me. What the fuck are you talking about ‘am I scared’?”
Status: DECEASED
Memory: 1 | Pregame: 1-2 | Trip: 1
V7: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9

ImageG078 - Sapphire Waters: “It’s okay, Emmett…”
Status: DECEASED
Pregame: 1
V7: 1-2-3-4

ImageB079 - Colin McCabe: “Hey you murderous prick! Tell me how the fucking dirt tastes!”
Status: DECEASED
Pregame: 1-2
V7: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7
#1 Uriel Hunter stan

"I'm refined, I'm cultured. I'm a fashionista. I'm everything you're not and never will be." - Ali Grayston, 2006
Post Reply

Return to “West Housing”