Clack.
Clack.
The sound echoed through the dark tunnels, irregularly. Slowly. Hesitantly.
Clack.
Clack.
...
Clatter.
"Oh, fuck off!"
O27 - ARTEMIS "ARTIE" QIU: START
Artie couldn't see a goddamn thing.
She swore under her breath as she slowly dipped down, leaning against the wall as she brought herself to the ground. She felt the spot on her knee get wet as it landed on the ground of the cave.
"Fuckin'..."
She felt around, to find the crutches that had slipped out of her hands in the aftermath of
rock
They were the unluckiest kids in the world? Well, then, fuck, she was the even more unluckiest kid in the world.
"Why... fuckin' why me, man?" she muttered, as she managed to reclaim her crutches.
She had to find a way out of this cave, at the very least.
At least then she'd able to see.
Clack.
Clack.
FC World A
Open!
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CondorTalon
- Posts: 459
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Clack.
The noise grew louder while Harun stayed still, gripping his flashlight (the only useful item he could feel in his bag) that he hadn’t bothered to turn on just yet once he realized he wasn’t alone. Not much time to look any further. His grasp was firm in anticipation — or rather stress, really — as his eyes tried to focus on the darkness around him. It wasn’t working very well. He had to focus on the sound only.
Once he could make out that it wasn’t some kind of animal when he heard a voice, he started to take careful but confident steps towards the source. Full on, head-on. Problem was, maybe a bit too much full on, head-on since his ears couldn’t keep up with his own steps, his breath that made him wonder if it has always been this loud, and
The actual source that he suddenly collided with.
The sound of the impact made it sound harsher than it probably was, the clack now too comfortably close as he tripped and tumbled against the cold wall next to Artie with a grunt.
The noise grew louder while Harun stayed still, gripping his flashlight (the only useful item he could feel in his bag) that he hadn’t bothered to turn on just yet once he realized he wasn’t alone. Not much time to look any further. His grasp was firm in anticipation — or rather stress, really — as his eyes tried to focus on the darkness around him. It wasn’t working very well. He had to focus on the sound only.
Once he could make out that it wasn’t some kind of animal when he heard a voice, he started to take careful but confident steps towards the source. Full on, head-on. Problem was, maybe a bit too much full on, head-on since his ears couldn’t keep up with his own steps, his breath that made him wonder if it has always been this loud, and
The actual source that he suddenly collided with.
The sound of the impact made it sound harsher than it probably was, the clack now too comfortably close as he tripped and tumbled against the cold wall next to Artie with a grunt.
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Pippi
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O12: MATTHEW OMERUO - START
Not for the first time in his life, Matthew opened his eyes to be greeted by nothing but yet more darkness.
It had been a few years ago when he’d last experienced something like this. A power cut in the greater Lagos area, a shortage that had occurred at night, and an event that would have passed him by if not for someone in the street setting off their car alarm and waking his whole family up. The usual amber glow from the streetlights outside had been absent. Matthew had felt like he had been floating in a void, uncertain as to whether his bed or his pyjamas or even his body had even existed.
He had been fully prepared to fall asleep like that once the alarm had finally been turned off, slumbering in that peaceful void. But Mark had not felt so at ease by the stillness and the silence. Matthew had heard him trying to stifle his sobs through the wallpaper. So he had slipped out of bed - the bed which did indeed exist after all - and made his way into his brother’s room and sat on the chair next to his chest of drawers and told him, in low, hushed tones, all of his favourite stories that he could remember from the illustrated book of Bible tales that nestled under the bed frame. Mark had always been particularly fond of Samson, the man with hair like a lion’s mane, and the strength of ten thousand men, and all of the superhuman, incredible feats that he performed.
Matthew had never told his brother how Samson’s story had ended.
It was a memory that radiated comfort and support, and one which Matthew clung to now. He remembered nearly everything that had led up to this moment, the only spots in his memory being directly after the initial abduction and the… he supposed he would call it a ‘ceremony’, if he had to give it a name. All the words, all the fear, all the information, however, was still crystal clear in his mind.
He could not tell if that was a blessing or a curse yet.
And even though the words that Jack had spoken were still playing ad nauseum in his head, as though the man was standing and talking right next to him and into his ear, Matthew couldn’t comprehend them in the slightest. Not when he didn’t even have a clue where he was, presently. The idea of ‘survival of the fittest’, a term he had only previously heard used in his science classes, being applied to him and a selection of other teenagers his age, was nigh-impossible to wrap his head around under normal circumstances.
In pitch darkness, with his throat dry and water seeping into the soles of his trainers, it was completely impossible.
Slowly, apprehensively, Matthew reached out with his right arm, moving it gingerly through the air in front of him. The space ahead revealed no secrets, but as he swept it to the right, his fingertips brushed cool stone, smooth and slick with water. A cave, then. Or some other natural rock formation, underground or otherwise enclosed.
Definitely not the time, then, to be thinking about the tale and the fate of Samson.
Matthew lowered his hand, unsure of what to do now, even with this newfound information, when he heard a noise, echoing from somewhere far ahead of him.
Clack.
Clack.
He frowned. His left hand found its way to his chest, his fingers enveloping the small metal cross hanging there. He breathed in, and he took a careful step forward.
Splash.
Thud.
Thud.
His brow furrowed further. They were not footsteps he had heard, then. But if it wasn’t that, then what was making that sound? Matthew could feel his heart hammering into his chest, his brain struggling to keep pace with it. He closed his eyes, and mouthed a silent prayer to himself, as the crucifix gently pressed into his palm.
“Hello?” he called out. “Is there somebody here?”
Not for the first time in his life, Matthew opened his eyes to be greeted by nothing but yet more darkness.
It had been a few years ago when he’d last experienced something like this. A power cut in the greater Lagos area, a shortage that had occurred at night, and an event that would have passed him by if not for someone in the street setting off their car alarm and waking his whole family up. The usual amber glow from the streetlights outside had been absent. Matthew had felt like he had been floating in a void, uncertain as to whether his bed or his pyjamas or even his body had even existed.
He had been fully prepared to fall asleep like that once the alarm had finally been turned off, slumbering in that peaceful void. But Mark had not felt so at ease by the stillness and the silence. Matthew had heard him trying to stifle his sobs through the wallpaper. So he had slipped out of bed - the bed which did indeed exist after all - and made his way into his brother’s room and sat on the chair next to his chest of drawers and told him, in low, hushed tones, all of his favourite stories that he could remember from the illustrated book of Bible tales that nestled under the bed frame. Mark had always been particularly fond of Samson, the man with hair like a lion’s mane, and the strength of ten thousand men, and all of the superhuman, incredible feats that he performed.
Matthew had never told his brother how Samson’s story had ended.
It was a memory that radiated comfort and support, and one which Matthew clung to now. He remembered nearly everything that had led up to this moment, the only spots in his memory being directly after the initial abduction and the… he supposed he would call it a ‘ceremony’, if he had to give it a name. All the words, all the fear, all the information, however, was still crystal clear in his mind.
He could not tell if that was a blessing or a curse yet.
And even though the words that Jack had spoken were still playing ad nauseum in his head, as though the man was standing and talking right next to him and into his ear, Matthew couldn’t comprehend them in the slightest. Not when he didn’t even have a clue where he was, presently. The idea of ‘survival of the fittest’, a term he had only previously heard used in his science classes, being applied to him and a selection of other teenagers his age, was nigh-impossible to wrap his head around under normal circumstances.
In pitch darkness, with his throat dry and water seeping into the soles of his trainers, it was completely impossible.
Slowly, apprehensively, Matthew reached out with his right arm, moving it gingerly through the air in front of him. The space ahead revealed no secrets, but as he swept it to the right, his fingertips brushed cool stone, smooth and slick with water. A cave, then. Or some other natural rock formation, underground or otherwise enclosed.
Definitely not the time, then, to be thinking about the tale and the fate of Samson.
Matthew lowered his hand, unsure of what to do now, even with this newfound information, when he heard a noise, echoing from somewhere far ahead of him.
Clack.
Clack.
He frowned. His left hand found its way to his chest, his fingers enveloping the small metal cross hanging there. He breathed in, and he took a careful step forward.
Splash.
Thud.
Thud.
His brow furrowed further. They were not footsteps he had heard, then. But if it wasn’t that, then what was making that sound? Matthew could feel his heart hammering into his chest, his brain struggling to keep pace with it. He closed his eyes, and mouthed a silent prayer to himself, as the crucifix gently pressed into his palm.
“Hello?” he called out. “Is there somebody here?”
-
CondorTalon
- Posts: 459
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Clack.
Clack.
Thump.
Thump.
...Wait.
Those weren't her steps. Artie heard those, and they weren't hers. They were someone else's footsteps, and they were getting closer.
Artie opened her mouth to speak, when something crashed into her.
And maybe it was the fact that she was caught off guard, or maybe it was the fact that she was trying to maneuver uneven ground with fucking crutches.
Whatever the case, Artie fell backward and hit the ground.
Clatter.
Artie hissed as a shooting pain shot up her leg, and she sucked in a breath, trying not to scream.
Clack.
Thump.
Thump.
...Wait.
Those weren't her steps. Artie heard those, and they weren't hers. They were someone else's footsteps, and they were getting closer.
Artie opened her mouth to speak, when something crashed into her.
And maybe it was the fact that she was caught off guard, or maybe it was the fact that she was trying to maneuver uneven ground with fucking crutches.
Whatever the case, Artie fell backward and hit the ground.
Clatter.
Artie hissed as a shooting pain shot up her leg, and she sucked in a breath, trying not to scream.
Silence;
for a moment, at least.
Harun turned on the flashlight in a reflex, aware of the other voice that echoed through the caves. One knee on the wet ground, he was leaning against the wall of rock while the bag was pulling him down some more. He aimed the light beam at the smaller girl next to him, raising an eyebrow when he noticed the crutches. Well, that sure sucked. Or were they supposed to be some kind of weapons he was unaware of? Unless he had somehow dropped it, Harun had not noticed any weapon in his own bag or around the spot where he woke up. Then again he hadn’t had a proper look.
He aimed at Artie’s face next.
Huh.
He couldn’t help but think that her hairstyle reminded him of his sister.
"Do not move," he warned as he got up slowly, his voice low but not hushed.
for a moment, at least.
Harun turned on the flashlight in a reflex, aware of the other voice that echoed through the caves. One knee on the wet ground, he was leaning against the wall of rock while the bag was pulling him down some more. He aimed the light beam at the smaller girl next to him, raising an eyebrow when he noticed the crutches. Well, that sure sucked. Or were they supposed to be some kind of weapons he was unaware of? Unless he had somehow dropped it, Harun had not noticed any weapon in his own bag or around the spot where he woke up. Then again he hadn’t had a proper look.
He aimed at Artie’s face next.
Huh.
He couldn’t help but think that her hairstyle reminded him of his sister.
"Do not move," he warned as he got up slowly, his voice low but not hushed.
-
Pippi
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Where that had been noise moments ago, there was now quiet.
Not silence, though. ‘Quiet’ and ‘silence’ were most certainly not the same thing, oh no. The chattering clacking noise was no longer echoing throughout the tunnels, yes, but now there was something that had replaced it, just as far away, if Matthew was forced to guess. It was not just one sound, either, but a number of them, all too soft and indistinct and muffled to accurately make out. Voices? Movement? Something else? He could not tell.
Other humans? He could not even tell you that.
His mind was now well and truly filled with visions of giant spiders with thin, clacking legs and chittering mandibles, and he shut his eyes once more, repeating the same prayer as previously under his breath. He had to think rationally, here; an impossible task, but a necessary one. The man who called himself Jack had made his intentions clear. The man expected the people he had kidnapped to die, and he expected them to do so via killing each other. The only means by which the man himself would take action - via the collar wrapped around Matthew’s neck, which the cord of his crucifix kept scraping and bumping into - was detonating a remote bomb if they did not follow his rules to the letter.
Well, that was all well and good then, wasn’t it? He did not have to fear any giant spiders or rampaging beasts, so he could just relax now, correct?
Matthew frowned, perturbed at the brief flash of anger that had crossed his mental stream. He thought that he would be allowed to feel this way, on this one occasion, however. After all, this situation, it was… it was terrible. Horrible. To be put into such a vicious and alien situation by these kidnappers, these… terrorists, he supposed would be a good term for them. Although their methods were far more bizarre than any terrorist organisation he had heard of before. He had experience, unpleasant as it was to remember, of people who would murder those they did not care for without a second thought; he knew far too many classmates whose family had been beaten or killed by SARS members.
But this was something entirely different. Matthew could not see any reason why Jack would want to kill a collection of secondary school students. And he was even less certain of why, if he wanted them all dead, he did not just do so when they were all congregated in the auditorium together.
He forced his eyes open again, and took a deep breath, steeling himself. He would have time to ruminate more on these matters later, he was sure. For now, he had to assume that the other noises in these caves came from other kidnapped students.
And he had to believe that nobody who had been placed out here would wake up with a desire to kill as the first thing on their mind.
He moved slowly, shuffling one foot in front of the other, keeping his right arm outstretched and his palm pressed flat against the wall as he moved. The rock wall curved in several places, turning this way and that, sending Matthew along tunnels and passing by large, open spaces. It did not take him all together too long until he could see the mouth of a different passage, illuminated in a bright, white light, piercing through the darkness. He moved towards it, just as slow and steady, stopping once he reached the mouth of the tunnel.
“Hello?” his voice called out once more. “Are you all right? I am not here to hurt you.”
Far behind him, lost in the gloom, unseen and unknown, Matthew’s bag lay propped up against the wall.
Not silence, though. ‘Quiet’ and ‘silence’ were most certainly not the same thing, oh no. The chattering clacking noise was no longer echoing throughout the tunnels, yes, but now there was something that had replaced it, just as far away, if Matthew was forced to guess. It was not just one sound, either, but a number of them, all too soft and indistinct and muffled to accurately make out. Voices? Movement? Something else? He could not tell.
Other humans? He could not even tell you that.
His mind was now well and truly filled with visions of giant spiders with thin, clacking legs and chittering mandibles, and he shut his eyes once more, repeating the same prayer as previously under his breath. He had to think rationally, here; an impossible task, but a necessary one. The man who called himself Jack had made his intentions clear. The man expected the people he had kidnapped to die, and he expected them to do so via killing each other. The only means by which the man himself would take action - via the collar wrapped around Matthew’s neck, which the cord of his crucifix kept scraping and bumping into - was detonating a remote bomb if they did not follow his rules to the letter.
Well, that was all well and good then, wasn’t it? He did not have to fear any giant spiders or rampaging beasts, so he could just relax now, correct?
Matthew frowned, perturbed at the brief flash of anger that had crossed his mental stream. He thought that he would be allowed to feel this way, on this one occasion, however. After all, this situation, it was… it was terrible. Horrible. To be put into such a vicious and alien situation by these kidnappers, these… terrorists, he supposed would be a good term for them. Although their methods were far more bizarre than any terrorist organisation he had heard of before. He had experience, unpleasant as it was to remember, of people who would murder those they did not care for without a second thought; he knew far too many classmates whose family had been beaten or killed by SARS members.
But this was something entirely different. Matthew could not see any reason why Jack would want to kill a collection of secondary school students. And he was even less certain of why, if he wanted them all dead, he did not just do so when they were all congregated in the auditorium together.
He forced his eyes open again, and took a deep breath, steeling himself. He would have time to ruminate more on these matters later, he was sure. For now, he had to assume that the other noises in these caves came from other kidnapped students.
And he had to believe that nobody who had been placed out here would wake up with a desire to kill as the first thing on their mind.
He moved slowly, shuffling one foot in front of the other, keeping his right arm outstretched and his palm pressed flat against the wall as he moved. The rock wall curved in several places, turning this way and that, sending Matthew along tunnels and passing by large, open spaces. It did not take him all together too long until he could see the mouth of a different passage, illuminated in a bright, white light, piercing through the darkness. He moved towards it, just as slow and steady, stopping once he reached the mouth of the tunnel.
“Hello?” his voice called out once more. “Are you all right? I am not here to hurt you.”
Far behind him, lost in the gloom, unseen and unknown, Matthew’s bag lay propped up against the wall.
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CondorTalon
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Artie instinctively shielded her eyes, as it suddenly became much brighter than she was expecting. She glared at the light... well, past the light, to the... figure holding it.
Sort of. The glare of the flashlight made it hard to actually see much. But they were there, and they were...
Don't move? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Artie's hand floundered in the darkness, looking for something... anything... to throw at this person just in case they tried something funny. 'Don't move'. What a fucking asshole.
Her hand didn't flounder for too long, her fingertips just barely grazing the top of one of her crutches.
"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?"
Sort of. The glare of the flashlight made it hard to actually see much. But they were there, and they were...
Don't move? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Artie's hand floundered in the darkness, looking for something... anything... to throw at this person just in case they tried something funny. 'Don't move'. What a fucking asshole.
Her hand didn't flounder for too long, her fingertips just barely grazing the top of one of her crutches.
"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?"
Harun's eyebrow twitched at the response, his face not showing much emotion otherwise while an undinstinct pain settled between his ribs. A purple ache, an invisible bruise he found easy to ignore. Some of the light seemed to bounce off of the octopus print on Harun's shirt, the smile of the creature looking like as if it was mocking them.
"We're fine so I suggest you move on," he called back to the yet to him unknown and distant voice that sounded closer than before while he kept his eyes on Artie. Whoever it was should care more about finding the exit than them, he thought. He knew he should worry about that too since he didn't plan on staying down here.
"Where is your weapon?" Harun asked her and his foot aimed to step on one of her crutches to keep her down.
"We're fine so I suggest you move on," he called back to the yet to him unknown and distant voice that sounded closer than before while he kept his eyes on Artie. Whoever it was should care more about finding the exit than them, he thought. He knew he should worry about that too since he didn't plan on staying down here.
"Where is your weapon?" Harun asked her and his foot aimed to step on one of her crutches to keep her down.
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Pippi
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Matthew frowned again.
Perhaps he was just being paranoid right now. He did not like to doubt people, after all; place your trust in somebody, and that kindness would become reflected back onto you. But there was something about the words being spoken, spoken in that unfamiliar and impossible to place accent, that put Matthew on edge. Perhaps it was the word ‘we’ being used, when only a single voice could be heard. Perhaps it was the curt, blunt way in which it had responded. And perhaps it really was just Matthew hearing things that were not there, the darkness and Jack’s words repeating over and over in his head making him flinch at shadows and jump at the sound of his own breathing.
Well, whatever the reason may have been, if everything truly was fine, then surely whoever it was further down the tunnels would have no problems with another set of helping hands.
He continued to walk forwards, keeping his hand pressed firmly against the tunnel wall, his other hand raised above his eyes, protecting them from the ever-increasing glare of the torchlight. He was aware that his own footsteps were surely growing louder and louder, the sound of each thud of trainer on rock or splash as his heel dipped into a puddle alerting the people he was walking towards as to his exact location. There was not anything he could do about that, though. He could only trust that his fears were unfounded.
It did not take him long to reach the source of the light and sound. He stared at the scene in front of him, hand still against the rock wall. There was a girl, lying on her back on the ground. A set of what appeared to be metal piping, resting at arm’s reach from her. And a boy, standing over her, holding a torch, and aiming it towards her face.
Matthew felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and the muscles in his legs tense, as though he was standing on the football pitch, waiting for the whistle to blow, and for everything to kick off.
Perhaps he was just being paranoid right now. He did not like to doubt people, after all; place your trust in somebody, and that kindness would become reflected back onto you. But there was something about the words being spoken, spoken in that unfamiliar and impossible to place accent, that put Matthew on edge. Perhaps it was the word ‘we’ being used, when only a single voice could be heard. Perhaps it was the curt, blunt way in which it had responded. And perhaps it really was just Matthew hearing things that were not there, the darkness and Jack’s words repeating over and over in his head making him flinch at shadows and jump at the sound of his own breathing.
Well, whatever the reason may have been, if everything truly was fine, then surely whoever it was further down the tunnels would have no problems with another set of helping hands.
He continued to walk forwards, keeping his hand pressed firmly against the tunnel wall, his other hand raised above his eyes, protecting them from the ever-increasing glare of the torchlight. He was aware that his own footsteps were surely growing louder and louder, the sound of each thud of trainer on rock or splash as his heel dipped into a puddle alerting the people he was walking towards as to his exact location. There was not anything he could do about that, though. He could only trust that his fears were unfounded.
It did not take him long to reach the source of the light and sound. He stared at the scene in front of him, hand still against the rock wall. There was a girl, lying on her back on the ground. A set of what appeared to be metal piping, resting at arm’s reach from her. And a boy, standing over her, holding a torch, and aiming it towards her face.
Matthew felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and the muscles in his legs tense, as though he was standing on the football pitch, waiting for the whistle to blow, and for everything to kick off.
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CondorTalon
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"Weapon? What are you ta-"
Wait.
Waaaaaaaaaaaaait.
See, here's the problem with being a real go-getter that moves before really considering everything. Uh, yeah, sometimes the everything being considered is pre-he-hetty fucking important. So. Artie woke up in a seated position, her crutches haphazardly laid her lap. The first thing that entered her mind as she took in her surroundings, other than the panic, of course, was 'goddamn it's dark in here'.
And that meant that Artie's mind originally jumped to 'I need to get out of here', instead of 'I need to check my immediate surroundings'. Because why wouldn't it? What was wrong with that line of thinking?
Well, you know... you forget that you have supplies, that's what.
Artie's train of thought was interrupted—not that it was really going anywhere meaningful in the first place—by the arrival of someone else.
Were they good? Bad?
No, actually, those weren't the right words... she had to rethink this a bit.
Were they on her side? Or the other boy's side?
Anyway, she'd been asked a question.
"Don't have it," she answered simply.
...Before shooting her foot, her good foot, upward, toward the boy's crotch.
Wait.
Waaaaaaaaaaaaait.
See, here's the problem with being a real go-getter that moves before really considering everything. Uh, yeah, sometimes the everything being considered is pre-he-hetty fucking important. So. Artie woke up in a seated position, her crutches haphazardly laid her lap. The first thing that entered her mind as she took in her surroundings, other than the panic, of course, was 'goddamn it's dark in here'.
And that meant that Artie's mind originally jumped to 'I need to get out of here', instead of 'I need to check my immediate surroundings'. Because why wouldn't it? What was wrong with that line of thinking?
Well, you know... you forget that you have supplies, that's what.
Artie's train of thought was interrupted—not that it was really going anywhere meaningful in the first place—by the arrival of someone else.
Were they good? Bad?
No, actually, those weren't the right words... she had to rethink this a bit.
Were they on her side? Or the other boy's side?
Anyway, she'd been asked a question.
"Don't have it," she answered simply.
...Before shooting her foot, her good foot, upward, toward the boy's crotch.
And it hit him good.
Right in the Please-Do-Not-Kick-Zone. The Forbidden Area.
A harsh huff of air escaped Harun’s lips when Artie’s foot connected with his crotch from below, his hand accidentally dropping the flashlight at the same time. The light went out as it made contact with the ground. A louder groan followed once the sharp sensation really settled in after a foolish second of thinking that it wasn’t too bad. He could have seen this coming given the position they were in, should have, but when his mind had been confused enough (Was she serious about the weapon? Were they a lie?) it was now just mush and pain. Maybe some anger too.
“— Fucking... ghh......— ”
Harun’s legs gave in and to avoid falling over the girl, he stepped to the side and plummeted to his knees, his hand clutching his stomach and lower area.
He knew the other person was really close now too. The timing felt like another kick.
He just needed a moment.
Right in the Please-Do-Not-Kick-Zone. The Forbidden Area.
A harsh huff of air escaped Harun’s lips when Artie’s foot connected with his crotch from below, his hand accidentally dropping the flashlight at the same time. The light went out as it made contact with the ground. A louder groan followed once the sharp sensation really settled in after a foolish second of thinking that it wasn’t too bad. He could have seen this coming given the position they were in, should have, but when his mind had been confused enough (Was she serious about the weapon? Were they a lie?) it was now just mush and pain. Maybe some anger too.
“— Fucking... ghh......— ”
Harun’s legs gave in and to avoid falling over the girl, he stepped to the side and plummeted to his knees, his hand clutching his stomach and lower area.
He knew the other person was really close now too. The timing felt like another kick.
He just needed a moment.
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Pippi
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And there it was. There was the kick off Matthew had been waiting for.
He just had not expected it to be quite so literal.
He had started to move as soon as he heard Artie speak - for the tone of her words in combination with what she was saying made it very clear that she was not friends with the boy looming over her - but he hesitated mid-stride, flinching as soon as he saw the kick land, wincing in sympathy. Every person who stepped onto a football pitch had experienced, or witnessed another person experience, such a… sensation. A volley aimed unfortunately close to the midriff. A sliding tackle which took you directly into the goal post. It was not something that Matthew wished upon anybody.
He could only focus on the ghostly pain for a brief moment, however, before he heard the shattering sound of glass breaking, and the cavern was plunged once more into darkness. His hearing took over as his primary sense once more, focusing on his own heavy breathing, and the other boy crumpling over letting out a strangled curse. His sympathy towards the boy’s pain remained, but he forced himself to remember that it had been he who had been looming over the girl, asking for weaponry. Not the other way around.
“Please, do not move any more!”
Matthew called out, his words directed at the boy, as he began to walk again, steady and laboured steps in the pitch darkness. His feet, shuffling against the stone, collided with something, the clattering length of metal almost causing him to fall as well. He stopped where he was standing, bending down to pick the tubing up, the metal cold against his palm as he wrapped his hand around it.
“And please do not try anything else ridiculous.”
His fingers crossed each other, an unconscious gesture. He hoped that this could all settle without anybody getting hurt further.
He just had not expected it to be quite so literal.
He had started to move as soon as he heard Artie speak - for the tone of her words in combination with what she was saying made it very clear that she was not friends with the boy looming over her - but he hesitated mid-stride, flinching as soon as he saw the kick land, wincing in sympathy. Every person who stepped onto a football pitch had experienced, or witnessed another person experience, such a… sensation. A volley aimed unfortunately close to the midriff. A sliding tackle which took you directly into the goal post. It was not something that Matthew wished upon anybody.
He could only focus on the ghostly pain for a brief moment, however, before he heard the shattering sound of glass breaking, and the cavern was plunged once more into darkness. His hearing took over as his primary sense once more, focusing on his own heavy breathing, and the other boy crumpling over letting out a strangled curse. His sympathy towards the boy’s pain remained, but he forced himself to remember that it had been he who had been looming over the girl, asking for weaponry. Not the other way around.
“Please, do not move any more!”
Matthew called out, his words directed at the boy, as he began to walk again, steady and laboured steps in the pitch darkness. His feet, shuffling against the stone, collided with something, the clattering length of metal almost causing him to fall as well. He stopped where he was standing, bending down to pick the tubing up, the metal cold against his palm as he wrapped his hand around it.
“And please do not try anything else ridiculous.”
His fingers crossed each other, an unconscious gesture. He hoped that this could all settle without anybody getting hurt further.
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CondorTalon
- Posts: 459
- Joined: Thu Sep 20, 2018 1:22 am
There was that brief moment of satisfaction as Artie's foot connected with the boy's weak point. That brief moment was then interrupted when she saw the flashlight fall from his hand, landing on the ground with a loud crack.
And then the world was plunged into darkness yet again.
"Can't fuckin' see, dude!" she blurted out.
Well, this was great. She really hoped the other boy had a flashlight on him, but she supposed that had to wait until she was no longer supine.
Artie flailed around in the darkness to find her crutches. She managed to easily find one, but the other one just didn't want to be found. Artie didn't know that it had been pilfered, so she kept trying for a few more seconds until the other boy talked again, trying to... de-escalated the situation, she supposed.
Artie pulled herself to the wall of the tunnel until she felt her back collide with it. With a grunt, she pushed herself up onto her feet. Well, foot.
She could still move with one crutch, at least.
And then the world was plunged into darkness yet again.
"Can't fuckin' see, dude!" she blurted out.
Well, this was great. She really hoped the other boy had a flashlight on him, but she supposed that had to wait until she was no longer supine.
Artie flailed around in the darkness to find her crutches. She managed to easily find one, but the other one just didn't want to be found. Artie didn't know that it had been pilfered, so she kept trying for a few more seconds until the other boy talked again, trying to... de-escalated the situation, she supposed.
Artie pulled herself to the wall of the tunnel until she felt her back collide with it. With a grunt, she pushed herself up onto her feet. Well, foot.
She could still move with one crutch, at least.
“And whose fault is that?” Harun snarked back at the girl. His tone was very monotonous but laced with frustration directed to the left and right and up and down and everywhere.
The pain eased gradually, though an uncomfortable feeling remained in his abdomen and his eyes were slightly wet. He rubbed his skin under his shirt soothingly while his other hand was feeling around the ground to find his fallen flashlight. This place felt like a huge joke to him and he didn’t want to stay any longer. He wasn’t going to let them slow him down. Once he located the flashlight, he grabbed it quickly and shook it. Was it really broken? Maybe if he tinkered with it some more… — He sighed quietly, not impressed with what Matthew had to say.
“Too bad I am going to move….”
One knee up, then the other, and he was back up and looking in the general direction of Matthew. He couldn’t see his face, didn’t know his name, anything, but he didn’t seem threatening. Please this, please that; Harun didn’t want to hear it.
“Move out of here that is. Don’t follow me.”
Making sure his bag was still secure on his back, Harun then sprinted off in the direction he had been heading in the first place.
((Harun Tee continued in (Un)Happy Camping))
The pain eased gradually, though an uncomfortable feeling remained in his abdomen and his eyes were slightly wet. He rubbed his skin under his shirt soothingly while his other hand was feeling around the ground to find his fallen flashlight. This place felt like a huge joke to him and he didn’t want to stay any longer. He wasn’t going to let them slow him down. Once he located the flashlight, he grabbed it quickly and shook it. Was it really broken? Maybe if he tinkered with it some more… — He sighed quietly, not impressed with what Matthew had to say.
“Too bad I am going to move….”
One knee up, then the other, and he was back up and looking in the general direction of Matthew. He couldn’t see his face, didn’t know his name, anything, but he didn’t seem threatening. Please this, please that; Harun didn’t want to hear it.
“Move out of here that is. Don’t follow me.”
Making sure his bag was still secure on his back, Harun then sprinted off in the direction he had been heading in the first place.
((Harun Tee continued in (Un)Happy Camping))
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Pippi
- Posts: 1121
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
“Wait!”
Matthew’s desperate attempt to stop the other boy was in vain, he realised as much even before the word had finished leaving his mouth. He had hoped, oh how he had hoped, that this scuffle, this conflict, had been nothing more than a rush of blood to the head, a frantic reaction to the situation in which they all found themselves. He had seen that exact scenario before; boys on the football pitch who normally possessed the most sanguine dispositions completely losing their cool at one too many so-called injustices, lashing out with studs up and a mouth full of thunder.
But this boy was in no mood to take a moment and take a breather and settle back down into his usual mindset. Or, perhaps, he was always this aggressive and evasive in his daily life, although Matthew certainly hoped that was not the case. Whatever the truth might have been, his footsteps were soon nothing more than echoes lingering in the cave, and Matthew was certain there was no force on this Earth that would stop him.
His body lurched forwards regardless, prepared momentarily to give chase, before his brain reminded him of what a foolish notion that was. They were surrounded by darkness, after all; he did not even know what direction the other boy had gone in. What was he going to do, pick a direction at random? He would end up sprinting down a completely different tunnel, was the most likely answer, or even better, straight into a wall.
And besides, the girl he had been attempting to burgle from was still here.
“Are you all right?”
Matthew called out into the darkness, his voice softer than his previous plea for the boy to halt. He remained still, wanting to ensure that everything around him was calm before he made any potentially-sudden movements. His foot remained pressed down on top of the metal tubing, its identity still unknown to him.
“He did not hurt you, did he?”
Matthew’s desperate attempt to stop the other boy was in vain, he realised as much even before the word had finished leaving his mouth. He had hoped, oh how he had hoped, that this scuffle, this conflict, had been nothing more than a rush of blood to the head, a frantic reaction to the situation in which they all found themselves. He had seen that exact scenario before; boys on the football pitch who normally possessed the most sanguine dispositions completely losing their cool at one too many so-called injustices, lashing out with studs up and a mouth full of thunder.
But this boy was in no mood to take a moment and take a breather and settle back down into his usual mindset. Or, perhaps, he was always this aggressive and evasive in his daily life, although Matthew certainly hoped that was not the case. Whatever the truth might have been, his footsteps were soon nothing more than echoes lingering in the cave, and Matthew was certain there was no force on this Earth that would stop him.
His body lurched forwards regardless, prepared momentarily to give chase, before his brain reminded him of what a foolish notion that was. They were surrounded by darkness, after all; he did not even know what direction the other boy had gone in. What was he going to do, pick a direction at random? He would end up sprinting down a completely different tunnel, was the most likely answer, or even better, straight into a wall.
And besides, the girl he had been attempting to burgle from was still here.
“Are you all right?”
Matthew called out into the darkness, his voice softer than his previous plea for the boy to halt. He remained still, wanting to ensure that everything around him was calm before he made any potentially-sudden movements. His foot remained pressed down on top of the metal tubing, its identity still unknown to him.
“He did not hurt you, did he?”