((Nate Chauncey continued from Candy From Strangers))
For Nate, it was time to reassess a little. Two encounters and she was down her supplies, her bandana and her dignity. Much as Nate hated to admit it, she needed to stop day dreaming for a while. She couldn't keep going on this way, not if she wanted to stay alive.
It meant that, for once, she needed to take things seriously.
With her rifle slung over her shoulder, Nate approached the dormant geyser, pausing a couple of metres back. She suspected that this was some kind of landmark, though she didn't exactly have the benefit of a map to confirm that. In any case, it was the first major feature of the island she'd come across since setting off, so it seemed as good a place to stop as any. Better than the middle of the grasslands, anyway.
Nate sat, awkwardly crossing her legs and leaning her gun against the rock that surrounded the geyser. She sighed, relieved at taking the load off of her feet. In the grand scheme of things, Nate hadn't really travelled that far, but she was carrying a lot more weight than she was used to, and was unfit at the best of time. When you factored in the heat and the wholely unsuitable clothing... this was proving very taxing.
The clothes were probably the worst part, though. Much as Nate was trying to keep Marvia's insults out of her head, this outfit was making her feel like she matched the derision. Slut. Skank. Stupid mesh top, stupid skirt, stupid boots. Stupid too-tight too-small underwear.
In any case... she'd been lucky so far, much as that was odd. Nate had been shot at, yeah, but she was alive, she was unhurt. She'd lost her bags and her clothes, but at least she still had something to wear, at least she had the protection of her rifle. Somebody had drugged her. What had happened with Marvia made Nate feel used, dirty... but it could have been worse, if Marvia had decided she wanted to start shooting for that 10 kill bonus. She'd been lucky... which meant she couldn't sit around feeling sorry for herself, and she couldn't keep blundering into these situations.
Nate hated trying to concentrate, hated trying to take things seriously. She preferred drifting, dreaming, painting, singing. It made her a horrible student and the worst conversationalist in the world, but it did mean that now and then in the crevices of her mind, something amazing came out. That wasn't going to work this time. She couldn't just... amble along and hope things turned out okay.
Retrieving the manual for her Dragunov from a pocket, Nate settled back to read. After a minute or so, she began to hum, and another thirty seconds, soft singing was emnating from the area.
"Hour on hour...
Time goes by...
It ticks, it tocks...
The sand... fliieees...
The glass empties...
As it flows..."
Wising Up
(Open)
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BetaKnight*
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 7:59 pm
((Devonte Washington Salted Trees))
Devonte trudged along, his bag dragging along in his wake. He paused to swipe the back of his arm across his brow, dislodging more sweat droplets than it absorbed. “The hell’s wrong with you people,” he absently complained as he resumed walking. “Grabbin’ folks up and droppin’ off here in, where it’s hotter than a mother. Trying cook a nigga, that’s what y’all are trying to do.”
He stopped abruptly and lifted his left foot, shaking it vigorously. “Man, now my junk stickin’ to my leg. This some old bullshit.” Bellowing the last word, Devonte glared defiantly up at the sky. The slight breeze, the only thing that had been making the trek from the inland lake tolerable, caught the edge of the “flag” hanging from his back pocket.
Wiping at his sweaty face again, an idea crept into Devonte’s mind. “Hells yes,” he muttered, an impish grin appearing on his face. “Imma do it.” Pulling the piece of fabric out with flourish and snap, he held it to his chest and smoothed it out. Once he had it as flat as possible, he placed it on his head. Biting his lip, he folded and tied corners, tugging and yanking and smoothing until he had turned his flag into a do-rag.
“Wear *this* at all time, motherfuckas,” he chortled to himself as he ran his hands over his new creation. Feeling exceptionally pleased with himself, Devonte picked up his bag rather than continue dragging it behind him.
Not too much later, he spotted the rocky terrain and occasional rumble that let him know he was in the vicinity of the geyser. He also spotted a girl lounging against a rock, reading something. Scratch that. It wasn’t a girl. It was a straight-up hooker. A ghetto-ass dominatrix hooker in some hoochie mesh top, studded skirt, scuffed up boots, tore up fishnets, and … was that a dog collar?
Devonte squinted his eyes, trying to make out more details. “Day-um, son. These fools thought of everything,” It was then that he noticed that the hooker also had a big ass rifle. “Of course. Ghetto hooker done got a gun, but I only got this damn thing.” He gave his bag a disgusted look.
Heaving a sigh, he stood a moment and tried to figure out what he should do. He really needed to find Jaszmine, Anferny, and Marcus a’fore something bad happened to one of them. And knowing his luck, that bad thing would happen to him. So he had to play this safe. Just…you know, play it cool and walk on past the ho. Just a polite comment and keep walking. Simple enough.
Taking a deep breath, Devonte started his approach. He wanted to stay far enough away from the ho that she wouldn’t snatch up her gun and start shooting at him, but close enough that she knew he wasn’t gonna do anything stupid. Kinda like what you had to do with the dogs that occasionally roamed the neighborhood back home. Show that you were respecting the distance but not showing fear.
“Hey ho,” he called out as he skirted the edge of the girl’s area. “Nice outfit. If you were gonna walk the main drag lookin’ for a date, knowwhadImean.” He tossed his head in greeting, trying to spot her flag. Not that it really mattered, but better safe than sorry. “Shit, girl. Ain’t you hot in that get-up? Please tell me those not the clothes you brought from home.”
Devonte trudged along, his bag dragging along in his wake. He paused to swipe the back of his arm across his brow, dislodging more sweat droplets than it absorbed. “The hell’s wrong with you people,” he absently complained as he resumed walking. “Grabbin’ folks up and droppin’ off here in, where it’s hotter than a mother. Trying cook a nigga, that’s what y’all are trying to do.”
He stopped abruptly and lifted his left foot, shaking it vigorously. “Man, now my junk stickin’ to my leg. This some old bullshit.” Bellowing the last word, Devonte glared defiantly up at the sky. The slight breeze, the only thing that had been making the trek from the inland lake tolerable, caught the edge of the “flag” hanging from his back pocket.
Wiping at his sweaty face again, an idea crept into Devonte’s mind. “Hells yes,” he muttered, an impish grin appearing on his face. “Imma do it.” Pulling the piece of fabric out with flourish and snap, he held it to his chest and smoothed it out. Once he had it as flat as possible, he placed it on his head. Biting his lip, he folded and tied corners, tugging and yanking and smoothing until he had turned his flag into a do-rag.
“Wear *this* at all time, motherfuckas,” he chortled to himself as he ran his hands over his new creation. Feeling exceptionally pleased with himself, Devonte picked up his bag rather than continue dragging it behind him.
Not too much later, he spotted the rocky terrain and occasional rumble that let him know he was in the vicinity of the geyser. He also spotted a girl lounging against a rock, reading something. Scratch that. It wasn’t a girl. It was a straight-up hooker. A ghetto-ass dominatrix hooker in some hoochie mesh top, studded skirt, scuffed up boots, tore up fishnets, and … was that a dog collar?
Devonte squinted his eyes, trying to make out more details. “Day-um, son. These fools thought of everything,” It was then that he noticed that the hooker also had a big ass rifle. “Of course. Ghetto hooker done got a gun, but I only got this damn thing.” He gave his bag a disgusted look.
Heaving a sigh, he stood a moment and tried to figure out what he should do. He really needed to find Jaszmine, Anferny, and Marcus a’fore something bad happened to one of them. And knowing his luck, that bad thing would happen to him. So he had to play this safe. Just…you know, play it cool and walk on past the ho. Just a polite comment and keep walking. Simple enough.
Taking a deep breath, Devonte started his approach. He wanted to stay far enough away from the ho that she wouldn’t snatch up her gun and start shooting at him, but close enough that she knew he wasn’t gonna do anything stupid. Kinda like what you had to do with the dogs that occasionally roamed the neighborhood back home. Show that you were respecting the distance but not showing fear.
“Hey ho,” he called out as he skirted the edge of the girl’s area. “Nice outfit. If you were gonna walk the main drag lookin’ for a date, knowwhadImean.” He tossed his head in greeting, trying to spot her flag. Not that it really mattered, but better safe than sorry. “Shit, girl. Ain’t you hot in that get-up? Please tell me those not the clothes you brought from home.”
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Sean had taken a long time to wake up. A really long time. He could tell by the sun that it was most assuredly not noon.
You'll all wake up at about the same time? About the same time my ass!
Of course, waking up late wasn't what had him in a sore mood. What did that was his weapon draw. Somehow, a water gun did not strike him as the sort of thing to make him get out of here in one piece unless everyone else just sort of self-destructed (or destroyed one another or something like that...you could dream, but it wasn't very likely). So Sean had simply slung the more or less useless weapon over his shoulder alongside the other supplies he'd been issued and started walking.
Whether he was lucky or not was to be determined, but the first other signs of humanity that he could be sure were human were quietly sung notes coming from someone...male. Making a bit of noise to avoid catching whomever it was off guard, Sean cleared his throat as he approached.
"Hey there."
Though he regretted doing so almost immediately, Sean decided that he'd made the right decision: If he was facing a madman, he was screwed either way. At least now, he wouldn't add the risk of friendly fire or an unintended kill to the mix. That would reduce his chances of dying...well, at least for now. He hoped.
Either that or I won't be around to care about it if I did screw up here...
You'll all wake up at about the same time? About the same time my ass!
Of course, waking up late wasn't what had him in a sore mood. What did that was his weapon draw. Somehow, a water gun did not strike him as the sort of thing to make him get out of here in one piece unless everyone else just sort of self-destructed (or destroyed one another or something like that...you could dream, but it wasn't very likely). So Sean had simply slung the more or less useless weapon over his shoulder alongside the other supplies he'd been issued and started walking.
Whether he was lucky or not was to be determined, but the first other signs of humanity that he could be sure were human were quietly sung notes coming from someone...male. Making a bit of noise to avoid catching whomever it was off guard, Sean cleared his throat as he approached.
"Hey there."
Though he regretted doing so almost immediately, Sean decided that he'd made the right decision: If he was facing a madman, he was screwed either way. At least now, he wouldn't add the risk of friendly fire or an unintended kill to the mix. That would reduce his chances of dying...well, at least for now. He hoped.
Either that or I won't be around to care about it if I did screw up here...
"It fades awa-"
The lyric died on Nate's lips as a distinctly non-Texan voice called out to her from close by. Her head jerked up from the instruction manual and her eyes fixed on her visitor. Nate stared for a couple of seconds at the unfamiliar boy with the grey bandana tied around his head, at first more surprised and on her guard at the sight of a newcomer than phased by what he was actually saying.
Colour rapidly came to Nate's pale cheeks, one part embarrassment and one part outrage. Who the heck just came up and started speaking to somebody like that!? The last she checked, you didn't generally greet somebody with the suggestion that they were a prostitute. Otherwise though, well... this was a horrible outfit and really, what would it make her look like to anybody else? Even if most people weren't that rude, on seeing clothes that flashed as much skin as these... it said things about the wearer.
Nate was really starting to regret actually putting the leather collar on. It was a lot more blatent than the hickey it was supposed to conceal and probably had worse implications about Nate. Oh well... so far she hadn't been shot at or drugged, so this meeting was apparently going better than the two previous. Said something when the best first impression was made by the guy calling her a hooker.
Fidgeting uncomfortably, feeling very exposed and self-conscious all of a sudden, Nate kept her eyes on the boy. "Didn't get much of a choice," she shrugged. "Took what I could get."
Abruptly, another greeting. Nate's eyes narrowed. Two at once... always difficult for her to handle, even at the best of times. Not great. She gave a cautious wave in the direction of the newcomer, subtly putting her other hand on her rifle, neither picking it up or grasping the trigger, simply resting her palm on the barrel. She wasn't going to let herself get in trouble for a third time.
The lyric died on Nate's lips as a distinctly non-Texan voice called out to her from close by. Her head jerked up from the instruction manual and her eyes fixed on her visitor. Nate stared for a couple of seconds at the unfamiliar boy with the grey bandana tied around his head, at first more surprised and on her guard at the sight of a newcomer than phased by what he was actually saying.
Colour rapidly came to Nate's pale cheeks, one part embarrassment and one part outrage. Who the heck just came up and started speaking to somebody like that!? The last she checked, you didn't generally greet somebody with the suggestion that they were a prostitute. Otherwise though, well... this was a horrible outfit and really, what would it make her look like to anybody else? Even if most people weren't that rude, on seeing clothes that flashed as much skin as these... it said things about the wearer.
Nate was really starting to regret actually putting the leather collar on. It was a lot more blatent than the hickey it was supposed to conceal and probably had worse implications about Nate. Oh well... so far she hadn't been shot at or drugged, so this meeting was apparently going better than the two previous. Said something when the best first impression was made by the guy calling her a hooker.
Fidgeting uncomfortably, feeling very exposed and self-conscious all of a sudden, Nate kept her eyes on the boy. "Didn't get much of a choice," she shrugged. "Took what I could get."
Abruptly, another greeting. Nate's eyes narrowed. Two at once... always difficult for her to handle, even at the best of times. Not great. She gave a cautious wave in the direction of the newcomer, subtly putting her other hand on her rifle, neither picking it up or grasping the trigger, simply resting her palm on the barrel. She wasn't going to let herself get in trouble for a third time.
(Ben continued from Lucidity )
Ben had been stupid, naive, whatever you wanted to call it. Really, people at home probably thought him some inbred Texan yokel who'd never owned a TV. He had been operating like this was an actual game and not a situation in which he could die. The beach changed that.
He'd reeled off the sand and in the general direction of the hotel. But even through the disorientation of being shot at, he knew the building was a place where people would congregate. Not to mention the fact that there were far too many corners to be pushed into. Ben wasn't exactly looking for people or any sort of confrontation. He needed to gather himself and reconsider his strategy. If he even had one besides approaching random people and inviting them to an easy kill.
So he went inland. Trying various breathing exercises, his heart still refused to stop racing. That was natural, though, as every little noise made him jump.
He went farther north than planned, the terrain turning rocky and uneven. Passing a large grouping of boulders, he spotted the geyser. And the people.
Ben halted, backpedaling to the other side of the rocks. Pressing into them, his shoes skidded against loose pebbles as he lowered to a crouch. He hadn't bothered yet to remove the purple bandana, hugging his legs to his chest and resting his head on his knees. His breath quickened and he closed his eyes.
Why had they given him such a useless weapon? Why did they have to select him in the first place? What good had his plans done, besides causing him to make a promise he might not be able to keep and being shot at?
Shifting back and forth on the ground, Ben stilled. Okay, there were people not far off. He'd watch them and do nothing more.
Near the top of a boulder, Ben poked his head. He could always run...again.
Ben had been stupid, naive, whatever you wanted to call it. Really, people at home probably thought him some inbred Texan yokel who'd never owned a TV. He had been operating like this was an actual game and not a situation in which he could die. The beach changed that.
He'd reeled off the sand and in the general direction of the hotel. But even through the disorientation of being shot at, he knew the building was a place where people would congregate. Not to mention the fact that there were far too many corners to be pushed into. Ben wasn't exactly looking for people or any sort of confrontation. He needed to gather himself and reconsider his strategy. If he even had one besides approaching random people and inviting them to an easy kill.
So he went inland. Trying various breathing exercises, his heart still refused to stop racing. That was natural, though, as every little noise made him jump.
He went farther north than planned, the terrain turning rocky and uneven. Passing a large grouping of boulders, he spotted the geyser. And the people.
Ben halted, backpedaling to the other side of the rocks. Pressing into them, his shoes skidded against loose pebbles as he lowered to a crouch. He hadn't bothered yet to remove the purple bandana, hugging his legs to his chest and resting his head on his knees. His breath quickened and he closed his eyes.
Why had they given him such a useless weapon? Why did they have to select him in the first place? What good had his plans done, besides causing him to make a promise he might not be able to keep and being shot at?
Shifting back and forth on the ground, Ben stilled. Okay, there were people not far off. He'd watch them and do nothing more.
Near the top of a boulder, Ben poked his head. He could always run...again.
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BetaKnight*
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 7:59 pm
Devonte raised an eyebrow at the ho’s nonchalant response as the potential double meaning of her words dawned on him. His eyes raked up and down her form as he tried to figure out if she had said that on purpose. Given the fact that she had started caressing the gun in a loving but absent fashion, he wasn’t so sure it was a good idea say anything to upset the streetwalker.
He was saved from saying anything further by the arrival of yet another person. Who just be-bopped on up and announced himself, like you do when you want fools to shoot you. But that wasn’t his problem if lanky biscuit wanted to get the skank to blast him. Would solve a lot of his problems, in fact, if she did.
But as he thought about it, both little Miss Plays-with-guns and new arrival both had that weird twang in their voices. Damnit, they must be from whatever else place was snatched. This was not good. Being alone with the slutty girl who liked her gun a little *too* much and this beanpole while he was weaponless and alone was not a good thing. He needed to get the hell outta here.
“S’up, dawg,” Devonte said, nodding his head in greeting at the new boy. Hitching his bag up on his shoulder, he flicked his eyes back and forth between the girl and the boy before resuming his trek. As he passed them, he swung around and walked backwards so he could keep an eye on them. Fuckin’ crazy white kids not gonna get him in the back.
((Devonte Washington continued in Putting in Work))
He was saved from saying anything further by the arrival of yet another person. Who just be-bopped on up and announced himself, like you do when you want fools to shoot you. But that wasn’t his problem if lanky biscuit wanted to get the skank to blast him. Would solve a lot of his problems, in fact, if she did.
But as he thought about it, both little Miss Plays-with-guns and new arrival both had that weird twang in their voices. Damnit, they must be from whatever else place was snatched. This was not good. Being alone with the slutty girl who liked her gun a little *too* much and this beanpole while he was weaponless and alone was not a good thing. He needed to get the hell outta here.
“S’up, dawg,” Devonte said, nodding his head in greeting at the new boy. Hitching his bag up on his shoulder, he flicked his eyes back and forth between the girl and the boy before resuming his trek. As he passed them, he swung around and walked backwards so he could keep an eye on them. Fuckin’ crazy white kids not gonna get him in the back.
((Devonte Washington continued in Putting in Work))
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chitoryu12*
- Posts: 64
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:16 am
((Bob Lazenby continued from Hello World))
Bob continued to marvel at the strange weather of the island. The mountain was still visible behind him and already the snow that had covered his body had melted, leaving him soaked in cold water. His clothes were getting mighty uncomfortable, and he figured that it wouldn't be particularly smart to continue on for however long he would survive with urine-stained pants and water-soaked everywhere.
Coming back up a small hill, he saw the top of the geyser that he had previously run screaming from just coming into view. Figuring now was as good a stopping point as any, he sat down to rummage through his pack for extra clothes.
As he pulled out the yellow and black-striped spandex, he sighed. He looked around for any cameras watching him; not seeing any, he dropped the spandex and began to unbuckle his belt.
"This is gonna suck...."
-----------
It wasn't until after he had already gotten the outfit on that he realized that he made a terrible, terrible mistake.
First off, the color was terribly gaudy.
Second, he was now just as hot and uncomfortable as his lower body had been, but now the feeling of constriction and sweat was covering everything below the neck. Except his chest, of course. He felt a slight shortness of breath.
Third, he looked horrifying. The plunging v-neck stopped just above his navel, giving everyone a perfect view of his chest hair. His pudgy stomach and flabby hips were accentuated by the form-fitting material, ensuring that all the viewers at home and anybody who planned on killing him would know exactly what he looked like under the material.
Fuck this, I'm changing back. I can wash my jeans in the lake.
"Hey there."
The Texan accent drawling from a distance was clearly coming from just over the hill. As in at the geyser. As in right fucking HERE.
Without getting a chance to remove the gaudy Mercury-esque outfit, Bob hit the deck, eyes scanning the top of the hill for anyone coming over.
Bob continued to marvel at the strange weather of the island. The mountain was still visible behind him and already the snow that had covered his body had melted, leaving him soaked in cold water. His clothes were getting mighty uncomfortable, and he figured that it wouldn't be particularly smart to continue on for however long he would survive with urine-stained pants and water-soaked everywhere.
Coming back up a small hill, he saw the top of the geyser that he had previously run screaming from just coming into view. Figuring now was as good a stopping point as any, he sat down to rummage through his pack for extra clothes.
As he pulled out the yellow and black-striped spandex, he sighed. He looked around for any cameras watching him; not seeing any, he dropped the spandex and began to unbuckle his belt.
"This is gonna suck...."
-----------
It wasn't until after he had already gotten the outfit on that he realized that he made a terrible, terrible mistake.
First off, the color was terribly gaudy.
Second, he was now just as hot and uncomfortable as his lower body had been, but now the feeling of constriction and sweat was covering everything below the neck. Except his chest, of course. He felt a slight shortness of breath.
Third, he looked horrifying. The plunging v-neck stopped just above his navel, giving everyone a perfect view of his chest hair. His pudgy stomach and flabby hips were accentuated by the form-fitting material, ensuring that all the viewers at home and anybody who planned on killing him would know exactly what he looked like under the material.
Fuck this, I'm changing back. I can wash my jeans in the lake.
"Hey there."
The Texan accent drawling from a distance was clearly coming from just over the hill. As in at the geyser. As in right fucking HERE.
Without getting a chance to remove the gaudy Mercury-esque outfit, Bob hit the deck, eyes scanning the top of the hill for anyone coming over.
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When Bob hit the deck on hearing his voice, Sean looked a bit taken aback. Even if the other kid was dressed horribly, it wasn't like he was going to shoot him for bad fashion (not that he could shoot him, unless he felt like soaking him...and the outfit might require that sooner or later).
"Woah, woah..." Beat. "Uh, I'm not going to shoot you? I...uh...come in peace?"
His attention turned to the...well, someone he thought he saw behind a boulder. "Same to you."
Great. Well, at least I didn't say I'm unarmed...
And then Sean noticed that Natalie was looking at a manual. For a gun (or something that sounded very much like it from the bit he caught off the cover). And his stomach dropped.
"Uh...." Going speechless in a bit of a freeze, Sean didn't know quite how to react to this revelation...particularly as he couldn't see what color bandanna she had (if she still had it with her, which he also couldn't tell).
"Woah, woah..." Beat. "Uh, I'm not going to shoot you? I...uh...come in peace?"
His attention turned to the...well, someone he thought he saw behind a boulder. "Same to you."
Great. Well, at least I didn't say I'm unarmed...
And then Sean noticed that Natalie was looking at a manual. For a gun (or something that sounded very much like it from the bit he caught off the cover). And his stomach dropped.
"Uh...." Going speechless in a bit of a freeze, Sean didn't know quite how to react to this revelation...particularly as he couldn't see what color bandanna she had (if she still had it with her, which he also couldn't tell).
((Sorry for shoddy))
The first guy, the rude one, he almost immediately took off. Nate couldn't really say that she was going to miss somebody like that. Nate wondered if all the kids from the other school were like that. So far, she wasn't exactly meeting nice people.
This was starting to make her a little uneasy. The newcomer had apparently seen others nearby (or he was crazy, given the whole 'crazy hallucinations' thing, but that was just speculation), and that meant that they were hiding. From her? Well, maybe, she did have a gun after all. Nate didn't really like the idea of threatening people but... if it prevented Marvia v2.0...
Nate shuddered a little at the memory, of... the entire encounter. The reminders were putting her on edge. She was spooked.
"Dunno who you're speaking to," Nate said to Sean. "Not sure I want to. Just keep your distance, and I'll be gone, okay?"
The slender girl didn't wait for an answer, simply grabbing her rifle and backing off in the opposite direction. She needed a little more time to regroup and think, first.
((Nate continued in Horizon))
The first guy, the rude one, he almost immediately took off. Nate couldn't really say that she was going to miss somebody like that. Nate wondered if all the kids from the other school were like that. So far, she wasn't exactly meeting nice people.
This was starting to make her a little uneasy. The newcomer had apparently seen others nearby (or he was crazy, given the whole 'crazy hallucinations' thing, but that was just speculation), and that meant that they were hiding. From her? Well, maybe, she did have a gun after all. Nate didn't really like the idea of threatening people but... if it prevented Marvia v2.0...
Nate shuddered a little at the memory, of... the entire encounter. The reminders were putting her on edge. She was spooked.
"Dunno who you're speaking to," Nate said to Sean. "Not sure I want to. Just keep your distance, and I'll be gone, okay?"
The slender girl didn't wait for an answer, simply grabbing her rifle and backing off in the opposite direction. She needed a little more time to regroup and think, first.
((Nate continued in Horizon))
From his hiding place, Ben watched events unfold.
Naturally, eyes took notice of the various bandanas of those gathered. He couldn't help but gawk at the getup the girl wore, wondering if she'd been snatched while dressed like that.
But then the guy in the grey bandana spoke. Just from his look alone, Ben surmised that he hailed from Detroit. Unfortunately, Ben's encounters with the Detroit students had not been exactly favorable, so he breathed a sigh of relief as the other boy hastily left.
That left a kid with a water gun and the manual reading girl. Ben had thought his own weapon useless, but his scraps of fabric suddenly seemed powerful when compared to some puny little thing that would only soak someone.
The girl interrupted Ben's thought process, speaking to the other guy and wandering off.
Her departure gave Ben some pause. Suffice it to say, he couldn't find any reason in staying either. Sure, a water gun posed no threat, but he didn't want to talk to interact with anyone just yet. A tiny voice also reminded him that he didn't want to be grouped with someone largely useless.
Is that what people are now, Ben?
He shook his head and laid his palm over his heart. Would it ever stop beating so fast? Probably only if someone killed it with a bullet.
Thereafter, he scuttled backwards. Away from the geyser. He wondered if there was some reward for being the first person to investigate every part of the island.
((Ben continued at Time To Pretend ))
Naturally, eyes took notice of the various bandanas of those gathered. He couldn't help but gawk at the getup the girl wore, wondering if she'd been snatched while dressed like that.
But then the guy in the grey bandana spoke. Just from his look alone, Ben surmised that he hailed from Detroit. Unfortunately, Ben's encounters with the Detroit students had not been exactly favorable, so he breathed a sigh of relief as the other boy hastily left.
That left a kid with a water gun and the manual reading girl. Ben had thought his own weapon useless, but his scraps of fabric suddenly seemed powerful when compared to some puny little thing that would only soak someone.
The girl interrupted Ben's thought process, speaking to the other guy and wandering off.
Her departure gave Ben some pause. Suffice it to say, he couldn't find any reason in staying either. Sure, a water gun posed no threat, but he didn't want to talk to interact with anyone just yet. A tiny voice also reminded him that he didn't want to be grouped with someone largely useless.
Is that what people are now, Ben?
He shook his head and laid his palm over his heart. Would it ever stop beating so fast? Probably only if someone killed it with a bullet.
Thereafter, he scuttled backwards. Away from the geyser. He wondered if there was some reward for being the first person to investigate every part of the island.
((Ben continued at Time To Pretend ))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Mungo. 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 growled a bit as his fumbling words and freezing up sent one person scrambling. A kick at some dirt in frustration was compounded as a careful peek back where he thought he'd seen Ben lurking showed nobody.
Maybe I am delusional...
Whatever the case, Sean decided that he had better get a move on and try to find some other people on his team...or some ersatz allies...or at least people willing to talk. So off he went, more walking than jogging, looking out for...someone. Anyone.
((Sean Davidson continued in Time To Pretend))
Maybe I am delusional...
Whatever the case, Sean decided that he had better get a move on and try to find some other people on his team...or some ersatz allies...or at least people willing to talk. So off he went, more walking than jogging, looking out for...someone. Anyone.
((Sean Davidson continued in Time To Pretend))
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chitoryu12*
- Posts: 64
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:16 am
Bob was too busy repeating to himself in his head gonnadiegonnadiegonnadiegonnadiegonnadiegonnadie to really notice that everyone was gone.
As his face finally unburied itself from the dirt, he noted the strange silence that had overcome the hill. Looking around, he found that there was nobody around. Everyone had just..........walked off.
.........or maybe they were hiding.
They were hiding and waiting to ambush him!
Bob wasted no time gathering up his pack. He didn't even bother to take his clothes from the grass, simply sprinting as fast as he could in his sweaty, impossibly garish spandex.
((Bob Lazenby continued in The Dark Prince))
As his face finally unburied itself from the dirt, he noted the strange silence that had overcome the hill. Looking around, he found that there was nobody around. Everyone had just..........walked off.
.........or maybe they were hiding.
They were hiding and waiting to ambush him!
Bob wasted no time gathering up his pack. He didn't even bother to take his clothes from the grass, simply sprinting as fast as he could in his sweaty, impossibly garish spandex.
((Bob Lazenby continued in The Dark Prince))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler chitoryu12. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.