Alli was up for a race. Without a visible sign of hesitation, she silently consented to the idea, and very quickly, the sound of Alex's feet on the metal stairs was joined by the sound of Alli's.
As Alex sprinted up the metal stairs, moving up two steps at once with a quick burst of speed, he soon found himself rapidly losing to Alli, who had quickly overtaken him (despite having the advantage of an early start) and given herself a safe early lead on her friend.
Looking up at her as she commented on the supposed health benefits of running up the stairs, a long-dormant competitive streak in Alex was ignited. And so, all his worries and doubts about surviving the Program were moved to one side, and all concerns for pushing the physical limitations of his body a step too far were thrown out the window. His only short-term focus was beating Allison.
Every muscle in his body focused on racing up the stairs as fast as humanly possible. He leaped four steps at once, whizzed around corners haphazardly, almost slipped and fell flat on his face more times then he could count. His eyes constantly darted up to look at Alli, and Alex could tell that, even though she was speeding up as well, Alex was catching up to her, slowly but surely. It looked like it would be a question of physical fitness and endurance on who would win, not agility, and Alex trumped Alli in those areas.
And despite his determination, despite his confidence, he still lost. Embarrassingly so.
Alli was one quick girl.
Climbing up the final stairs, resoundingly beaten, Alex, breathing heavily, and with a worn-out, cheeky grin on his face, jokingly remarked "You ever heard that story about the turt..." Mid-sentence, Alex paused to breathe and corrected himself. "Tortoise and the hare? Well, that story was bull."
Crayola Kids
F24 Debut, Open!
Moderator: Sh4dE
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General Goose
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((Placeholder post while I work on the actual one.))
"In your case, maybe." Alli smiled at Alex's joke and playfully punched him in the arm.
She threw her bag to the ground and sat down, expressing her dissatisfaction with the food inside and made a pretty bad joke about it.
She heard a noise from below and leant over the edge to investigate it.
"In your case, maybe." Alli smiled at Alex's joke and playfully punched him in the arm.
She threw her bag to the ground and sat down, expressing her dissatisfaction with the food inside and made a pretty bad joke about it.
She heard a noise from below and leant over the edge to investigate it.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Macha.
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General Goose
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In response to his joke, Alli gave him a smile, a light-hearded jokey response and a playful punch in the arm, to which Alex let out a cry of mock pain and anguish, putting on an exaggerated look of sadness on his face. "Alli, stop abusing me, you big nasty meanypants bully."
Afterwards, Alli took her bag off her back and sat down on the floor, and Alex decided to repeat her actions (except landing on his butt with a pretty loud bang. The tops of helipads weren't really comfortable places to sit down and have a picnic.) Taking off his spiked knuckles so he could more comfortably and safely search through his bag, he began copying Alli as she rifled through the bags and examined the bits and pieces they'd been issued.
The rations seemed to catch Alli's attention. Bread, chicken, saltine crackers, a packet of soup, and a brownie. Tragically, it was a small brownie, and just the one. Alex loved brownies. The food as a whole looked bland and simple. Being from a stereotypical Italian-American family with a history in the catering industry, Alex had, to put it bluntly, been spoiled from birth with varied, vibrant meals like pasta and such, and this shit was frankly....well, shit in comparison.
Except from the brownie. Alex loved brownies. He could not make that any more clear.
Giggling immaturely at Alli's remark on the food, he decided to quickly break off just a tiny bit of the brownie to get a quick preview of the taste. "Hardly the most..." he interrupted himself by putting the brownie into his mouth. "Hardly the most healthy, balanced nutritious meal. You'd think for all the crap they taught us about healthy eating in school, they'd care more about it in a situation like this? Still. Could be worse." He held up his brownie triumphantly, like it was vital life-saving medicine. "They gave us a brownie, we have that to be thankful for." His tone of voice getting a bit gloomier, he muttered sarcastically under his breath "Guess the General does have a heart."
With that, they both heard a sound. It was nearby, from underneath them. Not loud that they'd able to discern what it was, but not quiet enough that they'd be able to shrug it off, especially in a situation like the Program. Before Alex could move to check it out, Alli had already moved to the edge and leant over it to try and deduce what it was. Watching her from behind to see what she reported, he broke off a tiny bit more off the brownie. Then a tiny bit more.
Before he knew it, he had already eaten half of it.
Afterwards, Alli took her bag off her back and sat down on the floor, and Alex decided to repeat her actions (except landing on his butt with a pretty loud bang. The tops of helipads weren't really comfortable places to sit down and have a picnic.) Taking off his spiked knuckles so he could more comfortably and safely search through his bag, he began copying Alli as she rifled through the bags and examined the bits and pieces they'd been issued.
The rations seemed to catch Alli's attention. Bread, chicken, saltine crackers, a packet of soup, and a brownie. Tragically, it was a small brownie, and just the one. Alex loved brownies. The food as a whole looked bland and simple. Being from a stereotypical Italian-American family with a history in the catering industry, Alex had, to put it bluntly, been spoiled from birth with varied, vibrant meals like pasta and such, and this shit was frankly....well, shit in comparison.
Except from the brownie. Alex loved brownies. He could not make that any more clear.
Giggling immaturely at Alli's remark on the food, he decided to quickly break off just a tiny bit of the brownie to get a quick preview of the taste. "Hardly the most..." he interrupted himself by putting the brownie into his mouth. "Hardly the most healthy, balanced nutritious meal. You'd think for all the crap they taught us about healthy eating in school, they'd care more about it in a situation like this? Still. Could be worse." He held up his brownie triumphantly, like it was vital life-saving medicine. "They gave us a brownie, we have that to be thankful for." His tone of voice getting a bit gloomier, he muttered sarcastically under his breath "Guess the General does have a heart."
With that, they both heard a sound. It was nearby, from underneath them. Not loud that they'd able to discern what it was, but not quiet enough that they'd be able to shrug it off, especially in a situation like the Program. Before Alex could move to check it out, Alli had already moved to the edge and leant over it to try and deduce what it was. Watching her from behind to see what she reported, he broke off a tiny bit more off the brownie. Then a tiny bit more.
Before he knew it, he had already eaten half of it.
Her heart raced as she took another step forwards, blanking Alex completely to investigate what the noise was. A sudden movement, her shoelace getting stuck in the grating. She tripped forward, losing the shoe that had gotten caught and tumbling over the edge. A quick mistake. That was all it was. She never had the best balance anyway. It had never mattered before, though. If she fell over, she just got back up.
Just like that, Alli was gone.
There are ways of surviving a two story fall, if you're lucky. If you land right, and find a way to soften the impact, you can survive. It'll hurt, but you'll be alive. Just need to think fast, and have a little luck.
Luck wasn't on Alli's side. She didn't even realise she was falling before it was too late.
No time to cry, no time for tearful goodbyes, no heartfelt farewells.
No life flashing before her eyes.
No light at the end of the tunnel.
Just the crack of bones shattering as she hit the ground.
F24 - Allison Greene: Deceased.
Just like that, Alli was gone.
There are ways of surviving a two story fall, if you're lucky. If you land right, and find a way to soften the impact, you can survive. It'll hurt, but you'll be alive. Just need to think fast, and have a little luck.
Luck wasn't on Alli's side. She didn't even realise she was falling before it was too late.
No time to cry, no time for tearful goodbyes, no heartfelt farewells.
No life flashing before her eyes.
No light at the end of the tunnel.
Just the crack of bones shattering as she hit the ground.
F24 - Allison Greene: Deceased.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Macha.
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General Goose
- Posts: 318
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:51 pm
No.
No.
No.
NO!
It had to be a joke, a trick, an optical illusion. Maybe Alli had decided to cope by developing a sadistic sense of humour. No, that was silly. Her fall was broken by a perch or something, or maybe she skillfully grabbed onto a benevolently placed ledge. She had to be a secret free running champion, just in case she ever did fall off a helipad.
The possibility that she was seriously injured and in need of immediate medical attention was quickly brushed by Alex, who instead tried to calm his nerves by thinking of ways she somehow survived tumbling off the edge of the helipad without a scratch. The possibility she was dead...well, that was impossible. Not even worth considering, it'll just be depressing. In the Program, people don't die from anticlimactic accidents straight after reuniting with a dear friend, they die from suicide or from the actions of other students. The possibility Alli, sweet, wonderful, kind Alli, had died so quickly with such little fanfare was...well, he hadn't planned for that.
And thus, it couldn't happen. Laws of probability wouldn't allow it.
Yep.
Just walk to the edge Alex.
Take a peek over the side of the helipad.
It's not like you'll find a twisted, mangled corpse.
She may be clinging onto a ledge for dear life, she may be nursing a sprained ankle and pouting, she may even be wrestling with a wannabe-killer who decided that sneaking up the stairs to pick off the two friends was a good strategy.
But...dead?
No. Why are you even thinking she's dead?
If you have any proof she MAY be dead, I would like to hear it.
No evidence? Thought so.
Yep. Just peek over the edge, Alex. Why are you so scared of doing that simple task, Alex?
Being rude to an armed psychopath is easy enough to do without petrifying you, so why are you so scared of looking over an edge?
Just get on all-fours...move your head forward just a little bit.
There, was that so hard Alex?
No, that's not a corpse, Alex. That's not HER corpse. We've been over this. Her death is impossible.
She's not dead, Alex. Stop running down the stairs frantically like she is.
Fine. Ignore reason.
You forgot your bags. Alli will be angry at you for leaving the valuable supplies alone to the elements.
She's sleeping, retard. Don't grab her wrist so suddenly like that. You'll hurt her.
You never were good at finding pulses, anyway. Don't worry.
Don't put your head against her chest like that. You'll give people the wrong impression.
Huh. No heartbeat.
Normally, that'd mean someone's dead. But we've already established, with logic, reason and common sense, that her death....impossible. Inconceivable. Unbelievable. Goes against everything you were brought up to believe.
....
Stop kidding yourself.
Alex stared blankly at the corpse for a few seconds, his mind trying to craft some coherent thoughts and try to work out what to do next. The thoughts resisting reality...they were becoming quieter, replaced with more cynical, brutal, HONEST voices.
Until the day he died, Alex had no idea what he did next. He did not whether he burst into tears, screamed in anguish and anger at God and the General, attempted self-harm or simply sat there staring idly at what used to be his best friend.
All he knew was that, after some length of time had passed, a defeated, broken Alex walked away from Allison Greene's corpse, carrying nothing but the brass knuckles on his fists and the clothes on his back, not knowing why he had decided to go on with this torturous game.
((Alex Tartaglia continued in Out of the Darkness, into the Night.))
No.
No.
NO!
It had to be a joke, a trick, an optical illusion. Maybe Alli had decided to cope by developing a sadistic sense of humour. No, that was silly. Her fall was broken by a perch or something, or maybe she skillfully grabbed onto a benevolently placed ledge. She had to be a secret free running champion, just in case she ever did fall off a helipad.
The possibility that she was seriously injured and in need of immediate medical attention was quickly brushed by Alex, who instead tried to calm his nerves by thinking of ways she somehow survived tumbling off the edge of the helipad without a scratch. The possibility she was dead...well, that was impossible. Not even worth considering, it'll just be depressing. In the Program, people don't die from anticlimactic accidents straight after reuniting with a dear friend, they die from suicide or from the actions of other students. The possibility Alli, sweet, wonderful, kind Alli, had died so quickly with such little fanfare was...well, he hadn't planned for that.
And thus, it couldn't happen. Laws of probability wouldn't allow it.
Yep.
Just walk to the edge Alex.
Take a peek over the side of the helipad.
It's not like you'll find a twisted, mangled corpse.
She may be clinging onto a ledge for dear life, she may be nursing a sprained ankle and pouting, she may even be wrestling with a wannabe-killer who decided that sneaking up the stairs to pick off the two friends was a good strategy.
But...dead?
No. Why are you even thinking she's dead?
If you have any proof she MAY be dead, I would like to hear it.
No evidence? Thought so.
Yep. Just peek over the edge, Alex. Why are you so scared of doing that simple task, Alex?
Being rude to an armed psychopath is easy enough to do without petrifying you, so why are you so scared of looking over an edge?
Just get on all-fours...move your head forward just a little bit.
There, was that so hard Alex?
No, that's not a corpse, Alex. That's not HER corpse. We've been over this. Her death is impossible.
She's not dead, Alex. Stop running down the stairs frantically like she is.
Fine. Ignore reason.
You forgot your bags. Alli will be angry at you for leaving the valuable supplies alone to the elements.
She's sleeping, retard. Don't grab her wrist so suddenly like that. You'll hurt her.
You never were good at finding pulses, anyway. Don't worry.
Don't put your head against her chest like that. You'll give people the wrong impression.
Huh. No heartbeat.
Normally, that'd mean someone's dead. But we've already established, with logic, reason and common sense, that her death....impossible. Inconceivable. Unbelievable. Goes against everything you were brought up to believe.
....
Stop kidding yourself.
Alex stared blankly at the corpse for a few seconds, his mind trying to craft some coherent thoughts and try to work out what to do next. The thoughts resisting reality...they were becoming quieter, replaced with more cynical, brutal, HONEST voices.
Until the day he died, Alex had no idea what he did next. He did not whether he burst into tears, screamed in anguish and anger at God and the General, attempted self-harm or simply sat there staring idly at what used to be his best friend.
All he knew was that, after some length of time had passed, a defeated, broken Alex walked away from Allison Greene's corpse, carrying nothing but the brass knuckles on his fists and the clothes on his back, not knowing why he had decided to go on with this torturous game.
((Alex Tartaglia continued in Out of the Darkness, into the Night.))