((Charlotte Cave continued from Where is my Mind? )) Thus far, Charlotte's battle to maintain her tenuous grip on consciousness had been fought to a stalemate. Her steps had been slow and plodding as she limped alongside Robert, arm still slung over his shoulders. Shouldn't be far now... c'mon, infi...

((GMing approved by Killer_Moth)) "Can you stand?" "Ah, yeah, I think so." Bobby reached down to help Charlotte up, slinging her arm over his shoulder to support her weight. The bleeding had slowed to a crawl with Petrushka's help, but the blood loss had left her a bit woozy, and...

A day ago, R.J. might have argued the point of her being cute at best. He had a thing for athletes and short hair, after all, and knowing her at least in passing before this mess, he wouldn't have minded getting to know the girl better. But that was a day ago. Today, in this moment, all he could fee...

"...I'llkillhimI'llkillhimI'llkillhimI'llkillhimI'llkillhimI'llkillhimI'llkillhimI'llkillhimI'llkillhimI'llkillhimI'llkillhim..." The pain was the only thing that kept the raging beast Charlotte had become from truly going berserk and killing everyone in the cabin with her bare hands. The ...

((OOC: Sorry to Fri'chickenisha, but it made more sense to just go ahead with this.)) That shouldn't have been nearly so easy. R.J. tucked the gun away in the back of his pants, covering it with his shirt. He stayed close behind Simon, ready to draw at a moment's notice if necessary. The one guy dec...

The pain was paralyzing, though her eye was the source of surprisingly little of it. It was as firmly entrenched in its socket as ever, albeit not in any usable condition, and the outermost claws kept the one in the middle from going deeper and causing potentially fatal damage. Rather, it was the ga...

((Post order changed with permission from Clu, apparently)) Voices. Sam and Zach, from what he gathered of their conversation. He didn't know a Sam or a Zach. No reason to come out, then. Christ almighty, they were coming out of the fucking woodwork now. And now the voices were acknowledging their p...

((GMing approved by Fanatic)) She hadn't expected him to buy it. The only thing that needed to be bought was time, and in that respect, she was successful. She put herself knowingly in harm's way, so she was able to dodge the swipe. Well, enough of it, at any rate. It still stung like crazy, superfi...

"I suppose our chances of seeing a boat there are pretty much nonexistent, huh?" Well, no shit. The best they could likely hope for was enough parts to salvage for a raft, and even then, just taking to the sea had too many risks. R.J. had no nautical expertise, they had no idea how far it...

Interesting gambit the kid had in mind, though R.J. was mildly puzzled as to how Simon thought he'd tell anyone he was armed. He let out a breath through his nose that could've been reasonably construed to be a chuckle, offering a bemused shrug. Not to brag, dude, but I like to think I can keep a se...

R.J. came from a family of Alaskan Republicans. Of course he knew how to use a gun. If he gave him a minute or three, he could probably completely disassemble that thing and put it right back together. He wondered if Simon could really say the same, given his tone. He gave a singular nod, before wip...

Well fuck me sideways, the larger teen thought to himself, we may just have a chance here. He rubbed his eyes, taking a couple steps forward, hoping to get a better look at the piece he was carrying. GP6. 9 mil Parabellum cartridge, ambidextrous controls, solid grip. Not bad as pistols go. A rifle ...

Fletcher. Right. Even under normal circumstances, without so much pressure bearing down on him, R.J. was shit when it came to names. Again, however, that didn't matter right now. Trying to swallow his fear and failing miserably, he offered a nervous wave, setting the crook down against the wall and ...

((G104 Charlotte Cave: Start)) It wasn't that she'd planned on using it - after all, she'd told herself from minute one that she wasn't about to face her family a murderer - but as she rummaged through the duffel bag, Charlotte felt lied to. Granted, it wasn't as if she could expect a terrorist cell...

((B119 R.J. Lowe: Start)) Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT. As R.J. pulled his seventy-nine inch frame back to his feet by the walking stick he'd been issued, one word raced through his mind, albeit several hundred times. His eyes burned, his vision ...