((Holly Hergenroeder continues from Lucidity))
Pained gasps echoed through the deserted docks as Holly and her boyfriend finally screeched to a halt. They'd been running, oh yes, they'd been running for ages, and needless to say neither of them were cut out for it. Pot smokers were really not known for their incredulous stamina, and needless to say Jack wasn't exactly the strongest tool in the shed.
So here they were, a dead end. Holly was on her hands and knees, trying to fill those tiny little lungs back up with oxygen, while Jack had a similar reaction somewhere in the background. Oh gosh, that was her fault? She really shouldn't have forced him to run, even when her own muscles were screaming to stop, but they had no choice! They had to get out of there, they had to find somewhere to think.
Here was where they chose to lay for the moment, the dead end of a large dock. There was an overturned boat somewhere around here, and off in the near distance way a cruise ship, possibly bustling with activity. She didn't know, that was just a dumb place to check out.
Holly wiped the set from her brow, but continued panting throughout her stuttered speech.
"Oh...god...Jack....let'th...never...run...that...far...again...okay?" Holly spluttered, each individual word interspersed with a huge intake of breath as she tried to jolt some life back into that little body of hers.
And it was these little things, these brief courses of action, which took her away from the grim fact that there was even money towards the odds that Jack was going to die. She liked to sweat the little things, the things you take out of perspective, and you just look at them without the bigger picture, and...and they're what matter right now, not some godforsaken game, just little things like having to run too far. Being out of shape. Just...not the bigger picture. Just not that.
But Holly couldn't deny it forever. She had to take action. She had to do something. Even if it was only in the short term, she had to figure out how to keep him alive. Deep down, she knew it wouldn't amount to anything. It was those little things that kept her hopes up, when everything seemed so eff-you-bee-aye-are.
She changed positions, turned from her prone spluttering to a more comfortable position. She lay down, back to the old wood beneath her body, as air rushed to-and-fro through her lips. They parched for change.
So what now? What now?
You, The Living
Actually quite open
(John "Jack Lemmon continuing from Lucidity)
John collapsed right as he and Holly arrived at the dock.
The adrenaline had kept him going for this long, but once he stopped moving all of the energy rushed out of his body and he collided with the hard wood surface of the dock. The impact should have been at least slightly painful, but he was far too exhausted to feel anything.
He was breathing heavily as he lay there, a miserable potato sack of a man. He started to regain feeling in his body, and a massive pain rushed through him like a tidal wave of fire was flowing through his veins. He thought his heart would explode right out of his chest, and his legs felt as though they were driven over by an 18-wheeled semi.
He almost wished he could just fucking die.
But no. He had to be strong. For himself, and for her. He had to figure out a way to survive, to make it home alive. He knew he was the loner, and he knew what that meant. It meant that he had no team, and everyone on the island was out to get him. For him, it was nothing short of a mark of death, and everybody knew it. Even his own girlfriend could turn against him if she felt so inclined, but he knew that she wouldn’t, couldn't, ever do anything like that to him, and as long as he had her by his side, he was determined to survive. All he needed was a plan, but first he had to rest.
He drifted in and out of sleep for the longest time. At one point, he thought that he heard Holly say something, but in his dreary state he couldn't be sure. He couldn’t manage to sleep for more than 15 minutes at a time, for every time he finally fell asleep the pain would worsen and wake him right back up.
He found himself holding back tears as he lay there in his vegetable-like state. He kept having visions of his own death, visions which shook him to his core. In one of these visions he was in a similar position to his current one, lying half dead on dirty ground, except in his visions there was a gun pointed towards his face. The killer looked him in the eyes and chuckled as he cocked the gun and then proceeded to press it up against John's forehead. John struggled desperately to squirm away from his assassin but it was too late. John's final thought was "This is why I FUCKING HATE GUNS!"
Then, Darkness.
Just as the darkness came he woke up with a start, attempting to sit up but being overcome with shooting pain all through his body. As he lay back down, he saw Holly, and suddenly, just for a moment, all of his pain seemed to vanish.
John collapsed right as he and Holly arrived at the dock.
The adrenaline had kept him going for this long, but once he stopped moving all of the energy rushed out of his body and he collided with the hard wood surface of the dock. The impact should have been at least slightly painful, but he was far too exhausted to feel anything.
He was breathing heavily as he lay there, a miserable potato sack of a man. He started to regain feeling in his body, and a massive pain rushed through him like a tidal wave of fire was flowing through his veins. He thought his heart would explode right out of his chest, and his legs felt as though they were driven over by an 18-wheeled semi.
He almost wished he could just fucking die.
But no. He had to be strong. For himself, and for her. He had to figure out a way to survive, to make it home alive. He knew he was the loner, and he knew what that meant. It meant that he had no team, and everyone on the island was out to get him. For him, it was nothing short of a mark of death, and everybody knew it. Even his own girlfriend could turn against him if she felt so inclined, but he knew that she wouldn’t, couldn't, ever do anything like that to him, and as long as he had her by his side, he was determined to survive. All he needed was a plan, but first he had to rest.
He drifted in and out of sleep for the longest time. At one point, he thought that he heard Holly say something, but in his dreary state he couldn't be sure. He couldn’t manage to sleep for more than 15 minutes at a time, for every time he finally fell asleep the pain would worsen and wake him right back up.
He found himself holding back tears as he lay there in his vegetable-like state. He kept having visions of his own death, visions which shook him to his core. In one of these visions he was in a similar position to his current one, lying half dead on dirty ground, except in his visions there was a gun pointed towards his face. The killer looked him in the eyes and chuckled as he cocked the gun and then proceeded to press it up against John's forehead. John struggled desperately to squirm away from his assassin but it was too late. John's final thought was "This is why I FUCKING HATE GUNS!"
Then, Darkness.
Just as the darkness came he woke up with a start, attempting to sit up but being overcome with shooting pain all through his body. As he lay back down, he saw Holly, and suddenly, just for a moment, all of his pain seemed to vanish.
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((Oh jesus christ I'm sorry for the wait I'll never be this behind again :X))
The world seems much simpler when you just lay down and watch the clouds. Of course, that was just what Holly spent that time, waiting for John to wake from his perpetual groups of slumbers. She watched the sky. In her hectic life, filled to tipping point with schoolwork, extra credit work, making sure she never got into debt with her...habit. Holly never had time to slow down. But here she was, with the almost certain chance of never making it back to her dad and...that woman, again, and this was the only time in her life she could just...slow down, you know, and look at the sky and all its unworldly inhabitants.
Of course, she could have just come back to earth in a burning re-entry. She could have faced the fact that while, even though there was a slim chance of her team winning, the Black team being victorious and making it home to a life she couldn't face mainly because almost everyone she ever knew in her grade would be dead, there was no chance of making it home with John.
He was all on his own. He was like a 1969 Honda, rolling around on the streets of Bangkok in 2020. He was just a lost soul in a game he didn't belong in. He couldn't kill anyone, and that was his one factor that stopped him from any chance of winning. If he was on a team, he at least had a chance...
...if he was on a team...
...bingo.
Holly sat up, tugging her shirt loose from the splintered wood she lay on, and gazed slightly off-centre, her eyes focused on a knot in the wood of the docks. There was a plan in there, somewhere, she just had to bring it out.
But that would have to wait. John had just woken up again, and she had to keep on looking like she knew what she was going to do. Hell, for all she knew, she knew what she was going to do, but she just couldn't think of it at the moment. Holly spun her butt around on the floor, and faced him.
"You're up," Holly muttered, keeping her eyes from focusing too hard on what must have been a terrible thing for her to see "Okay, uh, I think it'th time we think of a plan. For you."
She had to keep him safe. She had the advantage over most of the island in that she was the only one who knew that John was the loner, and that was going to remain that way.
The world seems much simpler when you just lay down and watch the clouds. Of course, that was just what Holly spent that time, waiting for John to wake from his perpetual groups of slumbers. She watched the sky. In her hectic life, filled to tipping point with schoolwork, extra credit work, making sure she never got into debt with her...habit. Holly never had time to slow down. But here she was, with the almost certain chance of never making it back to her dad and...that woman, again, and this was the only time in her life she could just...slow down, you know, and look at the sky and all its unworldly inhabitants.
Of course, she could have just come back to earth in a burning re-entry. She could have faced the fact that while, even though there was a slim chance of her team winning, the Black team being victorious and making it home to a life she couldn't face mainly because almost everyone she ever knew in her grade would be dead, there was no chance of making it home with John.
He was all on his own. He was like a 1969 Honda, rolling around on the streets of Bangkok in 2020. He was just a lost soul in a game he didn't belong in. He couldn't kill anyone, and that was his one factor that stopped him from any chance of winning. If he was on a team, he at least had a chance...
...if he was on a team...
...bingo.
Holly sat up, tugging her shirt loose from the splintered wood she lay on, and gazed slightly off-centre, her eyes focused on a knot in the wood of the docks. There was a plan in there, somewhere, she just had to bring it out.
But that would have to wait. John had just woken up again, and she had to keep on looking like she knew what she was going to do. Hell, for all she knew, she knew what she was going to do, but she just couldn't think of it at the moment. Holly spun her butt around on the floor, and faced him.
"You're up," Holly muttered, keeping her eyes from focusing too hard on what must have been a terrible thing for her to see "Okay, uh, I think it'th time we think of a plan. For you."
She had to keep him safe. She had the advantage over most of the island in that she was the only one who knew that John was the loner, and that was going to remain that way.
(Sorry, we gotta break this cycle of super late posting :S)
Wood, as it turns out, is not the most comfortable of surfaces to sleep on.
About three seconds after waking, Jack realized that his neck was very sore, and he had a few large splinters in various areas
of exposed skin, which he ignored for the time being. He was too busy thinking about himself, about this game he was trapped in, about his own mortality, about his girlfriend. His head was reeling and he couldn’t even concentrate on anything. He heard Holly say something, and he tried to reply, but he couldn’t think of what he wanted to say.
He scratched his head then pulled his bandana down over his face, checking the color in the hopes that it had somehow magically changed, changed into a color that would be backed by a team, any team. It didn’t matter to him, but not this. Not the fucking loner. Why did it have to be him? What sick twist of fate was it that paired him up with this horrible mark of death and this stupid weapon of his that, to him, was practically useless? He knew then what he wanted to say, and so he said it. First he chuckled under his breath, and then all his rage started flowing right out of him.
“I’m fucked.” He began, “I’m so fucked. Why me?” he was getting progressively louder, “WHY THE FUCK DID IT HAVE TO BE ME!? WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS SHIT!?” He was now screaming in no particular direction. “Fuck this game. Fuck this stupid shitty fucking game!” He was in tears, his rage being replaced with sadness and depression.
When he was done he fell to his knees, holding his face in his hands as he shed a few tears. He stayed there for a while, full of understandable self-pity. After about a minute he looked up and saw Holly, and immediately built himself back up again. He turned to face her as he wiped away the rest of his tears, although his eyes were still watery and red.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry” He said, realizing that seeing him break down and cry after screaming about how fucked he is was probably not the best thing for Holly’s moral.
After a brief pause he said “You’re right, we do need a plan.”
Wood, as it turns out, is not the most comfortable of surfaces to sleep on.
About three seconds after waking, Jack realized that his neck was very sore, and he had a few large splinters in various areas
of exposed skin, which he ignored for the time being. He was too busy thinking about himself, about this game he was trapped in, about his own mortality, about his girlfriend. His head was reeling and he couldn’t even concentrate on anything. He heard Holly say something, and he tried to reply, but he couldn’t think of what he wanted to say.
He scratched his head then pulled his bandana down over his face, checking the color in the hopes that it had somehow magically changed, changed into a color that would be backed by a team, any team. It didn’t matter to him, but not this. Not the fucking loner. Why did it have to be him? What sick twist of fate was it that paired him up with this horrible mark of death and this stupid weapon of his that, to him, was practically useless? He knew then what he wanted to say, and so he said it. First he chuckled under his breath, and then all his rage started flowing right out of him.
“I’m fucked.” He began, “I’m so fucked. Why me?” he was getting progressively louder, “WHY THE FUCK DID IT HAVE TO BE ME!? WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS SHIT!?” He was now screaming in no particular direction. “Fuck this game. Fuck this stupid shitty fucking game!” He was in tears, his rage being replaced with sadness and depression.
When he was done he fell to his knees, holding his face in his hands as he shed a few tears. He stayed there for a while, full of understandable self-pity. After about a minute he looked up and saw Holly, and immediately built himself back up again. He turned to face her as he wiped away the rest of his tears, although his eyes were still watery and red.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry” He said, realizing that seeing him break down and cry after screaming about how fucked he is was probably not the best thing for Holly’s moral.
After a brief pause he said “You’re right, we do need a plan.”
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler EManLava. 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.
He was right, it was not great for Holly's moral to see that she had more faith in keeping John safe than he did. The string of expletives wasn't a great morale booster, all it did was push into her a feeling that he wasn't sure what to do, when she was still trying to think of something.
Holly closed her eyes, reaching her fingers to the bridge of her nose and started massaging slowly. They were alone, plenty of time to think, plenty of warning if anyone were to come meandering along the pier, and they had bags full of mystery items, there had to be something, anything, in there that could help.
"Okay, plan. A plan, we need a plan. I have...th'omething, but I'm not th'ure how good it'll work. It won't keep us th'afe forever...but we can alway'th look for an eth'cape, th'o it doeth'en't have to work forever. People have eth'caped from thi'th th'ow before, I know it, th'o we need to find th'ome th'mart people, look at...you know, the collar, and if they have th'omething...oh. Th'orry, I got a bit off track there, I wa'th going to talk about my plan."
She rapped her fingers on the wood of the dock while she tried to remember what in gods name she was thinking of before she started talking to John. She knew it was in there somewhere, there was the bare bones of a perfect plan.
Holly reached over to her bag, and unzipped again. She pulled out and placed beside her everything she didn't need for this. Her grenades. Food, water, some condom, which she snickered at and threw in the waves lapping at the pillars beneath her. She finally came across the one thing, the only thing in the entire world which would make this better.
Her outfit was laying there, neatly placed at the bottom of her bag. The outfit those bastards gave her for the purpose of just wearing to make her look silly, or sexy, or just look entertaining. But it was so perfect for the situation now, she couldn't help but smile.
It was a long, black, low cut cocktail dress, it had the aura about it that Holly knew it could fit her like a glove. Not that she'd ever wear it, god no, but instead, she knew it had a better purpose.
The black material just happened to be the same colour as her bandana. And that was just perfect.
After running her eyes up and down it a few times, she smiled, and looked up at John.
"Thi'th i'th it. It'th perfect, thi'th i'th th'o fucking perfect."
Holly lay the dress down on the dock, and took off her bandana.
This was so stupid, such a stupid move. She'd seen what almost happened to Alicia, and now she was going to knock at hell's door, just like her. That was why she didn't have much time.
Her collar gave off a warning beep. Holly shook her head, ridding herself of that awful sound. Instead, she lay her own team bandana down on the dress, measuring it out. It was just long enough, just big enough, to make some sort of replica. Because that was her plan. Her stupid, stupid plan.
Another beep. No time to waste here. Holly drew the dress up to her mouth and gave the edge of the silk a good bite with her sharpest tooth. She didn't intend to gnaw her way through the entire thing, just to loosen the frays at the end. If she was going to tear it, in only a few minutes, she needed to make it easy.
One more beep. It seemed faster than the first one. Holly placed her bandana back down precisely over the cloth, held her breath, and tore.
It took a while, wasted almost a minute, during which the beep
beep
beep
beeping had almost risen dramatically. She just needed to pick up her bandana, and that would be that, but Holly was persistent here.
Her hands worked themselves, and they tore out, as quick as humanly possible to tear a piece of cloth, a large bandana-sized section of the dress. They pushed the dress away, down the dock, so she could do the final bit she needed to do here.
Meanwhile the collar was coming quite resolute in its beep beep beep beep beep beep beeps, which Holly quickly shoved out of her mind, it wasn't that important now. Instead of reacting to whatever was happening, she reached inside her pocket and pulled out the one thing, the only thing she did keep in her pocket when she was taken: liquid paper. Chances were chances, and chances determined that this happened to be the only important thing on her now.
She moved the bandana above the new disguise, and brought it out. This was the tricky part. Precision. She'd slacked so much in her life, but here...she had to shine here. Holly didn't know who was on her team, but if they were like that big guy, or someone smart, or anything like that, she couldn't get him past with shoddy workmanship.
Holly put on a faint outline of her own pattern on the cloth, and started shaping it with the brush. It didn't have to be perfect, but it had to be accurate.
I have to do this, I have to do this, I have to do this...
beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep
The beeping was getting faster, but Holly was almost done. The skull looked like the original artist was high (she could relate, almost), but it was done. There were gaps, small inconsistencies, and it was almost as though it was making a troll face without a face, but it was done.
beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep
Wait, that wasn't done.
Holly grabbed the bandana, and tied it around her neck, almost chokingly.
"IT'TH ON! IT'TH ON!" Holly screamed to the nearest camera, as the beeping didn't seem to be stopping, but...it did. After the final string of beeps, the noise silenced, as she sat there on the wood in shocked silence. She didn't act. She didn't make any sort of movement as the shock of coming that close to death almost faded away. Holly reached down, and put everything back in her bag. The grenades, her mangled dress, her tools, and everything except one important little thing inside her left shoe (which she hoped was still there) was lumped in her bag.
And Holly sported a grin.
"Jack..." Holly reached down, and held up the bandana of her own creation. It wasn't perfect, at the closest glance it didn't even look like it, but it was only her first try.
"For all intent'th and purpo'th-purpo-th...For all everyone know'th...you're on our team now."
It wasn't the most foolproof of plans, far from it, but at least it was something.
Holly closed her eyes, reaching her fingers to the bridge of her nose and started massaging slowly. They were alone, plenty of time to think, plenty of warning if anyone were to come meandering along the pier, and they had bags full of mystery items, there had to be something, anything, in there that could help.
"Okay, plan. A plan, we need a plan. I have...th'omething, but I'm not th'ure how good it'll work. It won't keep us th'afe forever...but we can alway'th look for an eth'cape, th'o it doeth'en't have to work forever. People have eth'caped from thi'th th'ow before, I know it, th'o we need to find th'ome th'mart people, look at...you know, the collar, and if they have th'omething...oh. Th'orry, I got a bit off track there, I wa'th going to talk about my plan."
She rapped her fingers on the wood of the dock while she tried to remember what in gods name she was thinking of before she started talking to John. She knew it was in there somewhere, there was the bare bones of a perfect plan.
Holly reached over to her bag, and unzipped again. She pulled out and placed beside her everything she didn't need for this. Her grenades. Food, water, some condom, which she snickered at and threw in the waves lapping at the pillars beneath her. She finally came across the one thing, the only thing in the entire world which would make this better.
Her outfit was laying there, neatly placed at the bottom of her bag. The outfit those bastards gave her for the purpose of just wearing to make her look silly, or sexy, or just look entertaining. But it was so perfect for the situation now, she couldn't help but smile.
It was a long, black, low cut cocktail dress, it had the aura about it that Holly knew it could fit her like a glove. Not that she'd ever wear it, god no, but instead, she knew it had a better purpose.
The black material just happened to be the same colour as her bandana. And that was just perfect.
After running her eyes up and down it a few times, she smiled, and looked up at John.
"Thi'th i'th it. It'th perfect, thi'th i'th th'o fucking perfect."
Holly lay the dress down on the dock, and took off her bandana.
This was so stupid, such a stupid move. She'd seen what almost happened to Alicia, and now she was going to knock at hell's door, just like her. That was why she didn't have much time.
Her collar gave off a warning beep. Holly shook her head, ridding herself of that awful sound. Instead, she lay her own team bandana down on the dress, measuring it out. It was just long enough, just big enough, to make some sort of replica. Because that was her plan. Her stupid, stupid plan.
Another beep. No time to waste here. Holly drew the dress up to her mouth and gave the edge of the silk a good bite with her sharpest tooth. She didn't intend to gnaw her way through the entire thing, just to loosen the frays at the end. If she was going to tear it, in only a few minutes, she needed to make it easy.
One more beep. It seemed faster than the first one. Holly placed her bandana back down precisely over the cloth, held her breath, and tore.
It took a while, wasted almost a minute, during which the beep
beep
beep
beeping had almost risen dramatically. She just needed to pick up her bandana, and that would be that, but Holly was persistent here.
Her hands worked themselves, and they tore out, as quick as humanly possible to tear a piece of cloth, a large bandana-sized section of the dress. They pushed the dress away, down the dock, so she could do the final bit she needed to do here.
Meanwhile the collar was coming quite resolute in its beep beep beep beep beep beep beeps, which Holly quickly shoved out of her mind, it wasn't that important now. Instead of reacting to whatever was happening, she reached inside her pocket and pulled out the one thing, the only thing she did keep in her pocket when she was taken: liquid paper. Chances were chances, and chances determined that this happened to be the only important thing on her now.
She moved the bandana above the new disguise, and brought it out. This was the tricky part. Precision. She'd slacked so much in her life, but here...she had to shine here. Holly didn't know who was on her team, but if they were like that big guy, or someone smart, or anything like that, she couldn't get him past with shoddy workmanship.
Holly put on a faint outline of her own pattern on the cloth, and started shaping it with the brush. It didn't have to be perfect, but it had to be accurate.
I have to do this, I have to do this, I have to do this...
beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep
The beeping was getting faster, but Holly was almost done. The skull looked like the original artist was high (she could relate, almost), but it was done. There were gaps, small inconsistencies, and it was almost as though it was making a troll face without a face, but it was done.
beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep
Wait, that wasn't done.
Holly grabbed the bandana, and tied it around her neck, almost chokingly.
"IT'TH ON! IT'TH ON!" Holly screamed to the nearest camera, as the beeping didn't seem to be stopping, but...it did. After the final string of beeps, the noise silenced, as she sat there on the wood in shocked silence. She didn't act. She didn't make any sort of movement as the shock of coming that close to death almost faded away. Holly reached down, and put everything back in her bag. The grenades, her mangled dress, her tools, and everything except one important little thing inside her left shoe (which she hoped was still there) was lumped in her bag.
And Holly sported a grin.
"Jack..." Holly reached down, and held up the bandana of her own creation. It wasn't perfect, at the closest glance it didn't even look like it, but it was only her first try.
"For all intent'th and purpo'th-purpo-th...For all everyone know'th...you're on our team now."
It wasn't the most foolproof of plans, far from it, but at least it was something.
(Sorry for the quality/quantity of this post, I had to type the whole thing on an iPod Touch.)
John could not figure out what the hell holly was doing at first.
He saw her take off her bandana, which seemed like a severe lack of judgement to him in his ignorant state. He figured anything that made that damn collar start beeping was probably not the best of ideas. He saw her take a ...black cocktail dress... Out of her bag and start to measure it up with her bandana.
The realization hit him in waves.
"oh..Oh...OH!" he exclaimed, excited about this new little glimmer of hope he had for getting off of this damn island.
He watched enthusiastically while she finished working on the fake bandana. He noticed that her collar was starting to beep quite rapidly now.
"Hey, you might want to consider putting your bandana back on!" he said. He did not want to see the effects of a collar explosion up close and personal, and especially not to Holly.
When she was done he examined the makeshift bandana.
"Wow, this... This is perfect!" he said with excitement. It wasn't exact, and a very highly observant person would most likely see through the disguise if they looked closely, but it was a good plan, and it was all they could really do for the time being.
John could not figure out what the hell holly was doing at first.
He saw her take off her bandana, which seemed like a severe lack of judgement to him in his ignorant state. He figured anything that made that damn collar start beeping was probably not the best of ideas. He saw her take a ...black cocktail dress... Out of her bag and start to measure it up with her bandana.
The realization hit him in waves.
"oh..Oh...OH!" he exclaimed, excited about this new little glimmer of hope he had for getting off of this damn island.
He watched enthusiastically while she finished working on the fake bandana. He noticed that her collar was starting to beep quite rapidly now.
"Hey, you might want to consider putting your bandana back on!" he said. He did not want to see the effects of a collar explosion up close and personal, and especially not to Holly.
When she was done he examined the makeshift bandana.
"Wow, this... This is perfect!" he said with excitement. It wasn't exact, and a very highly observant person would most likely see through the disguise if they looked closely, but it was a good plan, and it was all they could really do for the time being.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler EManLava. 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.
He saw the genius in her plan. No longer was John the loner, the outsider to the rest of their class and so many more. John Lemmon was going to stay with Holly Hergenroeder, and it would stay like that until...until they found a way out of here.
Because that's now what Holly was relying on. Rescue, or escape. Because unless whoever her team was decided to skew the rules with an iron poker and whoever was watching her would allow John on her team, there wasn't any way of taking him into victory. The most common of friends, pitted against each other until death...poetic shit with which she would not put up with.
"Okay, John...here'th what we're gonna do. You need to keep both of them on, but we need to make your one le'th obviou'th. Okay, uh...th'tand up."
Holly took a good look at John, in all his six foot glory. From head to toe, she scanned, looking for even the smallest nook and cranny to shove that bandana. It needed to...well, Holly wasn't some stupid art student, so blend in? Is that what those so-called thespians said? Lines of sight? Something like that? She wasn't that versed in their own little terminology, so she needed to hazard a guess.
...WAIT! She remembered probably the best thing that could ever stick like putty in one's mind.
"Actually...change of plan."
Her hands shot forth, untied the bandana quicker than John could react, yanked it away. This was it, the one loophole she could take advantage of. She stole his bandana. He wasn't responsible for that, so now he didn't have to wear it. This extended his time on the island by almost...well, infinitely! He could wear the makeshift, and nobody could object. Nobody, ever.
She discarded the plain piece of cloth to the foaming waves beneath her, and tied the impostor to John's arm.
"There. I th'tole your bandana. You don't have to wear it anymore."
Her face was lit up like a cracker. She was happy, happier than someone in her shoes ever deserved to be.
"Welcome to the team."
Because that's now what Holly was relying on. Rescue, or escape. Because unless whoever her team was decided to skew the rules with an iron poker and whoever was watching her would allow John on her team, there wasn't any way of taking him into victory. The most common of friends, pitted against each other until death...poetic shit with which she would not put up with.
"Okay, John...here'th what we're gonna do. You need to keep both of them on, but we need to make your one le'th obviou'th. Okay, uh...th'tand up."
Holly took a good look at John, in all his six foot glory. From head to toe, she scanned, looking for even the smallest nook and cranny to shove that bandana. It needed to...well, Holly wasn't some stupid art student, so blend in? Is that what those so-called thespians said? Lines of sight? Something like that? She wasn't that versed in their own little terminology, so she needed to hazard a guess.
...WAIT! She remembered probably the best thing that could ever stick like putty in one's mind.
"Actually...change of plan."
Her hands shot forth, untied the bandana quicker than John could react, yanked it away. This was it, the one loophole she could take advantage of. She stole his bandana. He wasn't responsible for that, so now he didn't have to wear it. This extended his time on the island by almost...well, infinitely! He could wear the makeshift, and nobody could object. Nobody, ever.
She discarded the plain piece of cloth to the foaming waves beneath her, and tied the impostor to John's arm.
"There. I th'tole your bandana. You don't have to wear it anymore."
Her face was lit up like a cracker. She was happy, happier than someone in her shoes ever deserved to be.
"Welcome to the team."
-JOHN'S COLLAR SLOWLY STARTS BEEPING-
OBVIOUS ATTEMPTS TO EXPLOIT LOOPHOLES WILL NOT BE TOLERATED
OBVIOUS ATTEMPTS TO EXPLOIT LOOPHOLES WILL NOT BE TOLERATED
((Oh you're such a spoilsport 
))
Well, that didn't work. Holly thought it would have, but...nope.
Her smile shrank from her face as she realised his collar had started beeping.
Crap.
"Oh...uh, I thought that would work. Juth't...hold on a th'econd."
Holly leant down, and started unwrapping her shoelaces. They fumbled a bit, but she quickly unravelled them and tossed them to the side, clumping lopsidedly near her bag. Two cotton socks followed soon after. The Texan girl stretched her toes to the breeze, and spotted what was once a proud white bandana floating atop the water.
I am th'uch an idiot.
"I think a th'wim might be a good idea now. Hang on."
What was she thinking? She hadn't been swimming for years, and now...okay, she could pull this off. She could pull this off. Holly's feet bounded forward, and she dived into the foamy depths.
Salt went shooting up her nose. If she hadn't held her breathe only milliseconds before entering the water, her brain would be a chemical lab unto its own. Her eyes stung, but moments later she resurfaced still close to the docks. Her body felt heavy, luggish, weighted down by wet clothing. She struggled forth in the water, her strokes reaching towards the dancing piece of cream cloth.
The thing'th I do for my boyfriend, honestly...better focu'th on not drowning.
After a few more strokes, powering through the water, the little wrapping of cloth was right there, stinging her eyes. Her dominant hand snatched it from the water, and Holly turned around in the thrashes of the waves, eyeing where she was meant to return. A boyfriend was standing there without a collar. Not good.
Holly's feet kicked through the wrappings of her skirt, an article so desperate to cling her legs together. She got back there, less than two minutes in the water.
"Jack!" Holly spluttered out, before rearing her arm back and launching the sopping wet bandana from the water to the wood.
Okay, so...how do I get back up there?
Holly closed her eyes, and massaged the bridge of her nose on the point as she bobbed there aimlessly in the water. Okay, so new plan, new priority on the ever growing list: how to get out of the water oh wait there's a ladder on the other side.
She kicked her legs, and propelled herself under the grasp of those watching from outside the docks. Her hands reached the splintering, quite uncared for dock ladder standing firmly in the sea, and carried herself with the utmost opposite-of-grace up those cumbersome steps.
So...there she stood, right now. Sopping wet, exasperated, and now down several plans. Opposite a quite possibly terrified bee-eff who had only just managed to wrap the wet piece of crap around his ankle.
She leant down, keeping her hands on her knees...
...and burst into laughter.
Of all the things she planned to do, that was her master plan? She probably should have seen it wouldn't work! But Holly should have been scared. Scarred. Terrified that she almost caused the death of her boyfriend. She should have been mortified, apologizing, begging for forgiveness that she almost ended his life, and his only chance. But instead, she was laughing her ass off.
"Ahahaha...oh god Jack, oh god...I'm gonna mi'th theth'e time'th we have together th'o much." She smiled and walked forward, wrapping him into a tight hug. All the while keeping a warm smile on her face, and all the while remaining a sopping wet mess.
Okay, what'th the next plan?
...I'll think of one later. I gotta enjoy thi'th moment.
))Well, that didn't work. Holly thought it would have, but...nope.
Her smile shrank from her face as she realised his collar had started beeping.
Crap.
"Oh...uh, I thought that would work. Juth't...hold on a th'econd."
Holly leant down, and started unwrapping her shoelaces. They fumbled a bit, but she quickly unravelled them and tossed them to the side, clumping lopsidedly near her bag. Two cotton socks followed soon after. The Texan girl stretched her toes to the breeze, and spotted what was once a proud white bandana floating atop the water.
I am th'uch an idiot.
"I think a th'wim might be a good idea now. Hang on."
What was she thinking? She hadn't been swimming for years, and now...okay, she could pull this off. She could pull this off. Holly's feet bounded forward, and she dived into the foamy depths.
Salt went shooting up her nose. If she hadn't held her breathe only milliseconds before entering the water, her brain would be a chemical lab unto its own. Her eyes stung, but moments later she resurfaced still close to the docks. Her body felt heavy, luggish, weighted down by wet clothing. She struggled forth in the water, her strokes reaching towards the dancing piece of cream cloth.
The thing'th I do for my boyfriend, honestly...better focu'th on not drowning.
After a few more strokes, powering through the water, the little wrapping of cloth was right there, stinging her eyes. Her dominant hand snatched it from the water, and Holly turned around in the thrashes of the waves, eyeing where she was meant to return. A boyfriend was standing there without a collar. Not good.
Holly's feet kicked through the wrappings of her skirt, an article so desperate to cling her legs together. She got back there, less than two minutes in the water.
"Jack!" Holly spluttered out, before rearing her arm back and launching the sopping wet bandana from the water to the wood.
Okay, so...how do I get back up there?
Holly closed her eyes, and massaged the bridge of her nose on the point as she bobbed there aimlessly in the water. Okay, so new plan, new priority on the ever growing list: how to get out of the water oh wait there's a ladder on the other side.
She kicked her legs, and propelled herself under the grasp of those watching from outside the docks. Her hands reached the splintering, quite uncared for dock ladder standing firmly in the sea, and carried herself with the utmost opposite-of-grace up those cumbersome steps.
So...there she stood, right now. Sopping wet, exasperated, and now down several plans. Opposite a quite possibly terrified bee-eff who had only just managed to wrap the wet piece of crap around his ankle.
She leant down, keeping her hands on her knees...
...and burst into laughter.
Of all the things she planned to do, that was her master plan? She probably should have seen it wouldn't work! But Holly should have been scared. Scarred. Terrified that she almost caused the death of her boyfriend. She should have been mortified, apologizing, begging for forgiveness that she almost ended his life, and his only chance. But instead, she was laughing her ass off.
"Ahahaha...oh god Jack, oh god...I'm gonna mi'th theth'e time'th we have together th'o much." She smiled and walked forward, wrapping him into a tight hug. All the while keeping a warm smile on her face, and all the while remaining a sopping wet mess.
Okay, what'th the next plan?
...I'll think of one later. I gotta enjoy thi'th moment.
"Holy shit that was close!" John was not exactly thrilled that Holly almost just got him killed, but he laughed it off, not wanting to loose his cool again. He wasn't mad at Holly, her plan was almost solid, but the last thing he needed was more stress at the current moment.
He was trying to figure out where to put the bandana so that it would be visible but not noticible to anyone. He unwrapped it from his ankle and wrung it out, then looked around for a spot where it would blend in. He noticed his semi-dirty sock, and it was a color quite similar to his bandana. He proceeded to shove part of the bandana into his shoe, fit the other part around his sock and tie it off, then hide the knot inside his shoe. He looked down at his new "sock." It wasn't perfect, but it was close enough and hopefully noone would really notice.
"Hey, at least the loner color isn't hot pink, am i right?" He said, laughing.
"So, what now?" John asked, he was still working on that one himself, and he was open to ideas. He didn't want to stay at the dock forever, because he knew staying still would get him killed. He also had serious reservations about meeting up with the other members of the black team, because if they realized they had an extra member it would only be a matter of time before they figurre out his disguise, clever as it may be.
An idea poped into his head "We could..." then he forgot it. "ahh shit, nevermind." He had to think of something and fast, but nothing was coming to him.
"Any ideas?"
He was trying to figure out where to put the bandana so that it would be visible but not noticible to anyone. He unwrapped it from his ankle and wrung it out, then looked around for a spot where it would blend in. He noticed his semi-dirty sock, and it was a color quite similar to his bandana. He proceeded to shove part of the bandana into his shoe, fit the other part around his sock and tie it off, then hide the knot inside his shoe. He looked down at his new "sock." It wasn't perfect, but it was close enough and hopefully noone would really notice.
"Hey, at least the loner color isn't hot pink, am i right?" He said, laughing.
"So, what now?" John asked, he was still working on that one himself, and he was open to ideas. He didn't want to stay at the dock forever, because he knew staying still would get him killed. He also had serious reservations about meeting up with the other members of the black team, because if they realized they had an extra member it would only be a matter of time before they figurre out his disguise, clever as it may be.
An idea poped into his head "We could..." then he forgot it. "ahh shit, nevermind." He had to think of something and fast, but nothing was coming to him.
"Any ideas?"
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((Short schoolpost and death prologue placeholder go))
Holly had an idea. She was sure if they found, like, a base or something, somewhere to hole up and figure out any possible ways of getting out of here, they could do it.
Yeah, they could definitely do it.
They left.
((Holly Hergenroeder and John Lemmon continue in We are the Dead))
Holly had an idea. She was sure if they found, like, a base or something, somewhere to hole up and figure out any possible ways of getting out of here, they could do it.
Yeah, they could definitely do it.
They left.
((Holly Hergenroeder and John Lemmon continue in We are the Dead))