Haruka wasn't quite so sure how she had found herself at the edge of the building so soon. She had finally made it up the attics stairs, each clumsy step causing the floorboards beneath her to groan and creak. There wasn't really a place to hide, if the constant creaking of the floorboards didn't reveal her to her attacker, then the trail of blood she was leaving behind would. Haruka fell to her knees and frantically tried wiping the blood away, silently praying through raspy breaths that Clio wouldn't notice the macabre breadcrumb trail in the dim, musty attic. Realising she was only smearing the blood even further into the dusty floorboards, Haruka clambered to her feet again and staggered into the shadows.
Twists and turns around boxes, covered furniture and drapes hanging from rafters. The history of the house spread out before her and she was too busy trying to hide amongst it rather than take any notice of the old story each antique told. The shard of the plate was still in her hand, held outwards as if to stab any monster that should pop out from the shadows and give her a surprise. Soon she found herself covered in cobwebs and dust, particles of lint seeping into her wound. It was a scary thought that she should simply bleed to death in that labyrinth of furniture and never be found again. That she'd be one with the house forever.
She could hear the echoes of Clio and her accomplice heading up the staircase now, each footstep urging her to find a better hiding place before it was too late. Smearing a bloody handprint onto a globe, Haruka ditched her hiding place behind the dusty davenport desk and staggered through another thick curtain of cobwebs and moth-eaten drapes. The ground began to give way beneath her, sagging dangerously with dampness and decay. Haruka sank to her knees after trying to turn back, the smell of mould stinging her nostrils.
She was in the mouth of the house now. The blasted out section of the west wing that allowed the island to seep in and turn careful crafted detailing into rotting wood. Lush carpets into damp patches of moss and mould. Shingles and splintered wood hung around the mouth like teeth, and Haruka knew what lay beyond the steep drop where the floor gave way completely. Maybe I could turn back, it's not too late, it's not! But turning on her heel only brought her face to face with Clio Gabriella and Maxwell Lombardi, whose names spoken out loud early in the morning labelled them as killers.
There would be no reasoning with them. There would be no begging or pleading. No negotiations. She was gone for, but maybe it wasn't too late to save herself. Maybe she could somehow scale down the side of the house and drop into some bushes. She took a step backwards, arching her back. She was suddenly reminded of the hot, searing pain in her shoulder. She was practically handicapped now, useless, like a bird who had cruelly had it's wing clipped.
"Unlucky... Seems like you've reached the end of the line, eh? No where else to go except through the two well-armed killers who've cornered you against the edge of a particularly nasty looking drop..."
Haruka slowly looked over her shoulder at the drop. A two or three storey plummet down to the overgrown bushes, where no matter how she landed, she was sure she'd infect her wound further and break a bone. If she jumped she'd hit the pathway, surely that would be instant, like when a fly was crushed with a swatter. If she put some true momentum in, maybe she could make it to the lawn. One thing was for sure, she'd rather die out there and in the attic, in the mouth of the mansion. There was no way she could fight the two, she could only jump and deny them her inevitable death. She took another step backwards, biting her lip as the floor began to sag.
"But where are my manners...You spotted her first after all. What kind of gentleman would I be if I were to steal away your glory like that?"
Haruka Watanabe needed to make her decision. Was she going to save herself any further agony and throw herself to her death or was she going to let Clio Gabriella end her life there and then? She could commit suicide like a coward, or face her death with a mix between dignity and stupidity. Neither of those results sounded particularly appealing.
But there was a problem, even when faced with one cruel form of escape, Haruka was too scared to consider even suicide. She urged herself to lunge forwards and fall to the stone paving below, but she simply couldn't. She was frozen to the spot again, like that pathetic coward staggering about in the tunnels, freezing at every sound and echo.
The shy meek girl who nobody paid attention to, the one who was simply there, sinking into the background. Haruka Watanabe, a disappointment to her parents who strived for success. Haruka Watanabe, a social coward who could barely work up the nerves to introduce herself. Haruka Watanabe, who spent the last days crawling around in the dark like a frightened little mouse.
Was that all she was destined to be? A cowardly rodent? So jittery she allowed paranoia and delusions to choose her pathway? So scared that she allowed her only weapon to be taken away by Feo? So frightened that she foolishly deprived herself of sleep and water? So terrified that she deserted Trent and the others after Craig had been shot? Weakness was written allover her face, the looks of apathy in her killers eyes only confirmed it. She was an easy target not even worth remorse. A scared little rat.
But even cornered rats can fight back.
And that was that. Haruka ignored the agony coming from her ruined shoulder. Haruka ignored her bleeding palm as she tightened her grip on the plate shard. Haruka ignored the odds stacked so highly against her that it was almost a joke. Even if she didn't even land a single blow upon Clio or Maxwell, she'd die knowing she had tried. Her parents would know what their little disappointment had fought back against the odds before her death.
Clio stepped forwards, the sai in her hands. How many lives has it taken? Three? Four? The china dug into the cuts in Haruka's hand, blood seeped through the napkin. Maybe if I wasn't such an idiot I wouldn't have found myself in this mess...I could have been amongst friends or sane persons! I thought my fears were supposed to be good for me, to keep me on the alert, and look what I've got now...If only I had stopped being such a scared little idiot things might have started to work out for me.
Maybe one final act of bravery could make up for Haruka's past mistakes, even if the outcome didn't change the circumstance. Maybe thats how all the soldiers who died first in the wars felt. They may have been running, guns blazing, straight into enemy territory. They would probably be sent home in a coffin with the stars and stripes draped over it. Maybe they wouldn't be found at all.
But they would have died for something, no matter how insignificant it seemed to other people, it meant alot to them. A narrow chance, hope even, or maybe it was the final fact that they were dying for a cause. And like that, Haruka ran forwards to Clio Gabriella, the shard of china raised high in the air. Even if her death was a mere spark and fizzle in the inferno that was V4, she would have gone down in her own blaze of glory.
She made it three steps before Clio sent the sharp tip of the sai into her stomach. Pain exploded in Haruka's gut and she opened her mouth to let out a scream, but could only frantically gulp like a fish. Her eyes clenched shut and her wrists shook violently, the shard of china shattered like a little bomb as it hit the floor. Clio Gabriella slid the sai out of Haruka's stomach, preparing herself for another stab.
Haruka's legs gave out beneath her and she doubled over, falling forwards into Clio just as the sai entered her body a second time. Haruka's bloody hands held onto Clio's arms, desperately clawing for support as she sank to the ground. A bleeding beggar frantically using their superior as stability. Haruka's face pushed past Clio's chest, and she found her cheek pressed against her shoulder. There was a third stab to her stomach, lifting her off her feet a little before she settled back into Clio's frame.
There were no images of her past, a happy girl in Japan with her parents before she became a burden in America. No nostalgia or bad memories, no happy moments. All Haruka could do was look at Maxwell Lombardi, the blood running down her chin, trying to make some kind of eye contact. Black hair fell over her face, obscuring her vision until she finally gave up and looked down at the floor. She couldn't scream or fight back, she could barely breathe. She was merely a ragdoll now, unable to even make one last effort to throw herself over the edge of the sagging floor.
Another stab, this time cracking a rib. Haruka let out a shrill cry of agony, before finally sinking to her knees, her hands tugging at Clio's clothing in an almost childlike fashion. Haruka tried to tilt her head back, to get one last look at her killers face, to maybe try and decipher some kind of human emotion behind the veil of black and purple, but could only let her head droop forwards like a dead flower.
Maybe she'd see Craig O'Hoyle when she crossed over to the other side, maybe she'd be able to say sorry for ditching Trent. Maybe. Clio delivered two final stabs, before letting Haruka lean against her legs as her life finally began to ebb away, through the many holes and cuts etched into her frail body. Clio rested a warm a hand on Haruka's shoulder, maybe there was something in that touch, guilt even, or maybe she just didn't want the girl to bleed all over her.
With a gentle push it was all over. Finished. Haruka didn't stretch out her arms to make a last attempt to anchor herself to her killer, she wouldn't have been able to muster the strength even if she wanted to. Haruka wouldn't use her last moments to forgive or damn Maxwell and Clio for what they had done. She merely kept her eyes shut and embraced the fall like a withered leaf at the start of winter. Maybe there was bright side to this, somewhere.
G112 Haruka Watanabe, Eliminated
Out and In
Content Warning.
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Shake&Bake†
- Posts: 14
- Joined: Mon Sep 03, 2018 6:13 pm
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((Marybeth Witherspoon continued from Axes Aren't Efficient For Grinding))
How does somebody manage to walk across the entire island for a whole day without seeing another person?
Marybeth sure as hell had no idea. Not that she had actually spent the entire day walking. That would've been too much work. Still, all she'd seen was a bunch of trees and the occasional squirrel. It couldn't be that hard to find other people.
Actually, that was a lie. She had found people. Or at least what remained of people. There was one boy at the mining station whose head had more or less been blown clean off right. According to Danya, that had been Brock Mason. And then there was that girl, Miranda Merchant, in the woods who had a whole in her neck. Other dead bodies too, here and there around the island, but not a single other living person. She'd have thought that there actually wasn't anyone on the island if she hadn't already seen people on the first few days. According to Danya, there were still about two hundred kids left.
So where the hell were they?
The big house she'd just come across might've been her ticket to finding human life. Or maybe she'd just get screwed over and find it empty anyway. Was it really that much to ask for, to be able to find some other people to interact with? Preferably not the crazy killers, but she didn't want to find some meek and boring kid who would just sit and cry about the game. But after so long of not being able to talk to anybody, Marybeth really would just settle for anyone.
As she approached the door, the speakers littered around the island screeched to life. Weird, they didn't do that in the middle of the day, only in the mornings. Whatever was going on, it probably was important. Not to mention that it might give Marybeth an idea where she might find people, which made it a good enough reason to listen.
Evidently, Liz Polanski had done something with the collars to have pissed Danya off. Marybeth was surprised to hear Mr. Kwong's voice on the speakers. Still, whatever Liz had done, it wasn't like anything that had happened before on Survival of the Fittest. Not that Marybeth knew everything about it, but big stuff like this didn't get ignored by the places on the internet she frequented. She wondered what was the whole story.
Marybeth always had a saying: if she didn't know the whole story, nothing could stop her from making up a plausible version of it. A few ideas crept through her head. Maybe Liz had found a way to mess with other people's collars and make them blow up. Or maybe Liz got superpowers and could actually make collars blow up with her voice. That sounded pretty cool.
The sun still hung in the air, with what appeared to be several more hours of daylight. Marybeth's hands itched to write; she hadn't done any of that ever since she had woken up on the island. She could probably get the most light outside, since she hadn't seen any places with actual working lights yet, and flashlights didn't count. She put her pack down and pulled out her notebook. There were some scrap story ideas from days long past. Maybe she'd get around to writing them another day. First, she was going to write a little story about a special Liz Polanski.
How does somebody manage to walk across the entire island for a whole day without seeing another person?
Marybeth sure as hell had no idea. Not that she had actually spent the entire day walking. That would've been too much work. Still, all she'd seen was a bunch of trees and the occasional squirrel. It couldn't be that hard to find other people.
Actually, that was a lie. She had found people. Or at least what remained of people. There was one boy at the mining station whose head had more or less been blown clean off right. According to Danya, that had been Brock Mason. And then there was that girl, Miranda Merchant, in the woods who had a whole in her neck. Other dead bodies too, here and there around the island, but not a single other living person. She'd have thought that there actually wasn't anyone on the island if she hadn't already seen people on the first few days. According to Danya, there were still about two hundred kids left.
So where the hell were they?
The big house she'd just come across might've been her ticket to finding human life. Or maybe she'd just get screwed over and find it empty anyway. Was it really that much to ask for, to be able to find some other people to interact with? Preferably not the crazy killers, but she didn't want to find some meek and boring kid who would just sit and cry about the game. But after so long of not being able to talk to anybody, Marybeth really would just settle for anyone.
As she approached the door, the speakers littered around the island screeched to life. Weird, they didn't do that in the middle of the day, only in the mornings. Whatever was going on, it probably was important. Not to mention that it might give Marybeth an idea where she might find people, which made it a good enough reason to listen.
Evidently, Liz Polanski had done something with the collars to have pissed Danya off. Marybeth was surprised to hear Mr. Kwong's voice on the speakers. Still, whatever Liz had done, it wasn't like anything that had happened before on Survival of the Fittest. Not that Marybeth knew everything about it, but big stuff like this didn't get ignored by the places on the internet she frequented. She wondered what was the whole story.
Marybeth always had a saying: if she didn't know the whole story, nothing could stop her from making up a plausible version of it. A few ideas crept through her head. Maybe Liz had found a way to mess with other people's collars and make them blow up. Or maybe Liz got superpowers and could actually make collars blow up with her voice. That sounded pretty cool.
The sun still hung in the air, with what appeared to be several more hours of daylight. Marybeth's hands itched to write; she hadn't done any of that ever since she had woken up on the island. She could probably get the most light outside, since she hadn't seen any places with actual working lights yet, and flashlights didn't count. She put her pack down and pulled out her notebook. There were some scrap story ideas from days long past. Maybe she'd get around to writing them another day. First, she was going to write a little story about a special Liz Polanski.
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One of the last things the poor Japanese girl saw as she was helpless to stop Clio's relentless attack was Maxwell Lombardi standing tall with his arms crossed, a sadistic grin on his face as he observed his temporary accomplice in action.
Admittedly, it was a pleasant change to not be the one who has to do the killing for once. Not that the idea of killing inexplicitly became abhorrent to Maxwell again or something. If anything, seeing Clio take care of this ingrate reminded Maxwell just how fun it was the first time he flushed the life out of someone with his own bare hands. But nevertheless, it was still nice to just sit back and enjoy the show for once. Like a footballer who, bored out of his mind, decides to sit down and actually watch a little football before going back into the game.
The chink as it seemed tried to at least put up SOME kind of defense, even if it was just as pathetic and useless as that blond haired moron's genius idea of jumping in the way of several oncoming bullets. It was actually quite a shame, really, that the girl didn't put up much of a fight. A part of the young Brit was hoping that she'd take Clio with her and save him the trouble of having to eventually deal with the exotic killer himself. Oh well, it was a win-win situation either way. It'd of been a shame if the 2nd best killer died so anticlimactically anyway...
He smirked at the finishing touch Clio added when she shoved Haruka off the edge for good measure. It was little things like that which made being on the damned island all the more bearable... Now that their intruder had been dealt with, Maxwell couldn't help but hold his gun using his armpit and clap in a rhythmic fashion to applaud Clio on her perfectly executed kill.
"Well done! I couldn't of done a better job myself..."
The rhythmic clapping slowly drew to a stop as Maxwell considered what the next course of action should be. Now that the intruder was dead and gone, he wasn't exactly sure what to do now in order to pass the time. At least, he wasn't sure for a few seconds until he remembered the suggestion he was going to make before he was so rudely interrupted...
"...And you know what, I think this calls for a celebration. Could you wait for me in the bedroom for, oh, a couple of minutes or so? I'll be right back, hopefully with a little surprise in tow..." he said, giving Clio a mischievous wink before heading off through the attic and back downstairs.
After making his way through the maze-like corridors that made up the mansion, heading down a seemingly endless number of staircases along the way, the young man eventually found what he was looking for: Namely a small rectangular room which served as the mansion's wine cellar.
As expected, it practically barren. The shelves were mostly empty, save one or two empty bottles that had been left in a haphazard fashion. The floor was covered in dozens of empty and broken bottles, which Maxwell was especially careful to not accidentally tread apon. At a guess, it looked as though there had been some kind of drunken party occuring in this cellar shortly before it was abandoned. One that was possibly even commited by Danya's own men, as evidenced by the camera that was watching his every movement in the corner of the ceiling. What the devil is powering those things anyway? Oh whatever, who cares... Seems as though the bastards have cleared this place more thoroughly then I though. So much for finding an intact bottle of......
..................
.....Is that what I think it is?
At first he thought it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. After all, the chances of finding an intact wine bottle amongst all this rubbish was highly unlikely. But sure enough, lying there between the shelves and surrounded by debris lay an unopened bottle of Frontera Chardonnay white wine. Just left there unattended for god knows how long. The only reason why it hadn't already been taken Maxwell guessed was that as the cellar was cleaned out, they must have mistaken it for one of the other empty bottles that they had left strewn across the floor in a mess.
Maxwell smiled. Unlikely, but not impossible as it seemed.
Without even batting an eyelash, the young Brit grabbed the bottle and was about to make his way back to the bedroom where Clio was (hopefully) waiting for him, when suddenly he froze on the spot as the announcement speakers sounded up once more.
What the...?!? This can't be right. They're only supposed to play announcements in the morning... Something big must have happened.
He listened closely to the announcement which played out, taking note of every last detail. The longer he listened to it, the more intriguing it became as the news as to what had just happened was broadcasted across the island. By the time it was over, Maxwell just stood there in silence for a minute or two...
...And then, he began to burst out laughing.
HA! So somebody in the end really DID figure out a way to get the collars off after all! Not so fucking foolproof, are they? Oh, if only I could look at the fat man's face when he realised that his system had been royally screwed by a damn teenager!
He had to hold back on his fit of laughter somewhat, seeing as tears were beginning to flow down his cheeks by this point. He was certain that nobody would be able to hear him from all the way down in the middle of a cellar, but nevertheless he knew that he had to have SOME self control.
After another minute or so, the young Brit finally managed to calm himself down as he wiped a tear from his eye. Whilst it was great to hear that someone had finally screwed Danya over, the fact still remained that escape was impossible. The bounty placed on Liz Polanski made that even more obvious. Even if you DID somehow get the collar off like she did, you were still in great danger. If anything you put a huge target on your head. God knows, if Maxwell ever found this Polanski girl he wouldn't waste a second in wasting her on the spot... Okay, maybe he'd congratulate her on beating the system first, THEN he'd kill her.
Anyway, best to not keep Clio waiting...
He made his way up the various staircases which stood between him and his destination, manoeuvring himself through the labyrinth-like corridor until he finally found himself standing outside the bedroom which he'd told Clio to wait within. He stood there for a moment, gun in his right hand and a bottle of wine in his left, before taking a deep breath and knocking lightly on the door and opening it.
"See, I told you I'd be back. And look what I found in the..."
He stopped mid-sentence, his face suddenly turning red.
"Oh god, SORRY! Sorry..." he said in a flustered manner, turning his head away from Clio as he cleared his throat in embarrassment.
Jesus, talk about bad timing...
Admittedly, it was a pleasant change to not be the one who has to do the killing for once. Not that the idea of killing inexplicitly became abhorrent to Maxwell again or something. If anything, seeing Clio take care of this ingrate reminded Maxwell just how fun it was the first time he flushed the life out of someone with his own bare hands. But nevertheless, it was still nice to just sit back and enjoy the show for once. Like a footballer who, bored out of his mind, decides to sit down and actually watch a little football before going back into the game.
The chink as it seemed tried to at least put up SOME kind of defense, even if it was just as pathetic and useless as that blond haired moron's genius idea of jumping in the way of several oncoming bullets. It was actually quite a shame, really, that the girl didn't put up much of a fight. A part of the young Brit was hoping that she'd take Clio with her and save him the trouble of having to eventually deal with the exotic killer himself. Oh well, it was a win-win situation either way. It'd of been a shame if the 2nd best killer died so anticlimactically anyway...
He smirked at the finishing touch Clio added when she shoved Haruka off the edge for good measure. It was little things like that which made being on the damned island all the more bearable... Now that their intruder had been dealt with, Maxwell couldn't help but hold his gun using his armpit and clap in a rhythmic fashion to applaud Clio on her perfectly executed kill.
"Well done! I couldn't of done a better job myself..."
The rhythmic clapping slowly drew to a stop as Maxwell considered what the next course of action should be. Now that the intruder was dead and gone, he wasn't exactly sure what to do now in order to pass the time. At least, he wasn't sure for a few seconds until he remembered the suggestion he was going to make before he was so rudely interrupted...
"...And you know what, I think this calls for a celebration. Could you wait for me in the bedroom for, oh, a couple of minutes or so? I'll be right back, hopefully with a little surprise in tow..." he said, giving Clio a mischievous wink before heading off through the attic and back downstairs.
After making his way through the maze-like corridors that made up the mansion, heading down a seemingly endless number of staircases along the way, the young man eventually found what he was looking for: Namely a small rectangular room which served as the mansion's wine cellar.
As expected, it practically barren. The shelves were mostly empty, save one or two empty bottles that had been left in a haphazard fashion. The floor was covered in dozens of empty and broken bottles, which Maxwell was especially careful to not accidentally tread apon. At a guess, it looked as though there had been some kind of drunken party occuring in this cellar shortly before it was abandoned. One that was possibly even commited by Danya's own men, as evidenced by the camera that was watching his every movement in the corner of the ceiling. What the devil is powering those things anyway? Oh whatever, who cares... Seems as though the bastards have cleared this place more thoroughly then I though. So much for finding an intact bottle of......
..................
.....Is that what I think it is?
At first he thought it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. After all, the chances of finding an intact wine bottle amongst all this rubbish was highly unlikely. But sure enough, lying there between the shelves and surrounded by debris lay an unopened bottle of Frontera Chardonnay white wine. Just left there unattended for god knows how long. The only reason why it hadn't already been taken Maxwell guessed was that as the cellar was cleaned out, they must have mistaken it for one of the other empty bottles that they had left strewn across the floor in a mess.
Maxwell smiled. Unlikely, but not impossible as it seemed.
Without even batting an eyelash, the young Brit grabbed the bottle and was about to make his way back to the bedroom where Clio was (hopefully) waiting for him, when suddenly he froze on the spot as the announcement speakers sounded up once more.
What the...?!? This can't be right. They're only supposed to play announcements in the morning... Something big must have happened.
He listened closely to the announcement which played out, taking note of every last detail. The longer he listened to it, the more intriguing it became as the news as to what had just happened was broadcasted across the island. By the time it was over, Maxwell just stood there in silence for a minute or two...
...And then, he began to burst out laughing.
HA! So somebody in the end really DID figure out a way to get the collars off after all! Not so fucking foolproof, are they? Oh, if only I could look at the fat man's face when he realised that his system had been royally screwed by a damn teenager!
He had to hold back on his fit of laughter somewhat, seeing as tears were beginning to flow down his cheeks by this point. He was certain that nobody would be able to hear him from all the way down in the middle of a cellar, but nevertheless he knew that he had to have SOME self control.
After another minute or so, the young Brit finally managed to calm himself down as he wiped a tear from his eye. Whilst it was great to hear that someone had finally screwed Danya over, the fact still remained that escape was impossible. The bounty placed on Liz Polanski made that even more obvious. Even if you DID somehow get the collar off like she did, you were still in great danger. If anything you put a huge target on your head. God knows, if Maxwell ever found this Polanski girl he wouldn't waste a second in wasting her on the spot... Okay, maybe he'd congratulate her on beating the system first, THEN he'd kill her.
Anyway, best to not keep Clio waiting...
He made his way up the various staircases which stood between him and his destination, manoeuvring himself through the labyrinth-like corridor until he finally found himself standing outside the bedroom which he'd told Clio to wait within. He stood there for a moment, gun in his right hand and a bottle of wine in his left, before taking a deep breath and knocking lightly on the door and opening it.
"See, I told you I'd be back. And look what I found in the..."
He stopped mid-sentence, his face suddenly turning red.
"Oh god, SORRY! Sorry..." he said in a flustered manner, turning his head away from Clio as he cleared his throat in embarrassment.
Jesus, talk about bad timing...
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...Clio's hands were filthy.
As the girl went sailing off the top of the little drop, she got a good look, a good feel of her hands as they touched the girl's reddened fabric. These were the hands of a murderess, the hands of someone who'd gotten a lot of blood beneath the perfectly manicured fingertips. The hands of someone who'd crossed any discernable line of morality, and stepped into an unknown abyss.
Well, pushed really. Or reached. Either way, that itty bitty thing was roaring behind her now.
There seemed to be a very, very momentary silence after she pushed her off. The moment she hit the ground, it changed, shifted. Like a little breeze wafted through, and brought the still statues to life. Well, not still statues, but rather a British mass-murderer.
"Well done! I couldn't of done a better job myself..."
...well done. Good job...cool. Accolades. From a very fine guy, if I might say so myself.
"...And you know what, I think this calls for a celebration. Could you wait for me in the bedroom for, oh, a couple of minutes or so? I'll be right back, hopefully with a little surprise in tow..."
Oh, the glories of mixed signals. There were literally (well, not literally literally, but more like the literally people used for emphasis literally, that one) millions of ways that Clio could have interpreted that sentence, but a mysterious wondering of what the hell was actually going through his head seemed to bounce up first.
She didn't have time to ask him, since he sauntered back down the bloody trail from whence they came before she could even open her mouth. That was just something she was going to need to find out later, or rather think about.
Clio stood there for a bit, watching the boy make his way through the attic, and as he worked his way out of sight, Clio sighed. He was...well, Maxwell seemed to be that odd mixture of someone you could really trust with your life, and someone who seemed to take glorious pleasure in watching people die. Honestly, the last bit didn't really surprise Clio. She knew her year, and she didn't know them as well as she could have, but there were some strange people among them, all the little hidden sociopaths among the happy, preppy, normal people. Really, didn't surprise her.
What was kinda surprising her was the fact that the little Japanese girl who lay below her seemed to have a lot of blood. As in, a lot of it. Looking down, and getting a good look at her person, her entire skirt was coated in a thick layer of plasma, skin bits, and most prominently, blood. It was soaking, dripping, and still in motion as she stood there alone. What was also of notice was that her new weapon, her sai, was also coated in the same stuff. All of the stuff that was there shouldn't have been able to cling to her shiny new weapon so tightly, it was just terrible. And her shirt, that was simply the worst. The girl had no chance of meeting her at eye level, but the blood seemed to reach up and fuck it around even more so.
I needa get changed.
A few minutes later, Clio had made her way back into her little room for the evening. Everything was how she left it, no one had taken anything from the bedroom, the only bedroom in the hall with the doors whipped right open and giving off a free show without permission. The room with all their weapons, all their belongings.
First thing was first, Clio took a bottle of water from her bag. The plastic was now all too familiar with her hands, seeing as how she'd been drinking from the same thing for the last...how many days was it again? Clio strolled over to the corner, next to a chest of drawers (and an expensive looking one at that) and undid the bottles lid. The familiar snap of plastic twisting away from its seal was a comfort, even a little bit. No one had been touching her stuff. Clio crouched down, her legs starting to ache a little bit from how much she'd been running in the last few days, and poured a little of the water into her blood-stained hands.
The most wonderful feeling in the world could have been powered to the third and it wouldn't have matched that feeling, the one she experienced now. She was being cleaned, cleaned by a bottle of warm stale water. But what did taste matter? She cupped a little bit of it in her hand and watched the water swish past the brown and red stains accumulated over the days. Clio placed the bottle down on the frizzed carpet beneath her and used the tips of her fingers to scrub the skin inpromptu-ly. It started to come off. It wasn't working that well, what with it being only water, but it was coming out. Still, the comparisons to certain literary Shakespearean nobility were lingering to a degree. She wasn't going to go down that path, however, and that was that.
Satisfied, Clio poured the water lingering on her hands onto the carpet. There wasn't any need to be all caring about the integrity and cleanliness of the carpet now, since it was never going to be used again. It would have taken far too long for her to go out, find a bathroom, and get cleaned there, so this would have to do.
She straightened herself out, and headed back over to the bed again, when, as she sat herself down, something she didn't expect happened.
The speakers that were supposed to only come on at the start of every morning screeched to life. Looking up at the nearest one, wedged in the topmost corner of the room, she resisted the urge to conform to the stupid-girl main course of action supplied within the manual and tilt her head confused.
Well, she didn't need to wait for long, since apparently all her answers were suddenly shot out of the air by...
...the fuck?
Was that...Mr. Kwong?
*
By the time Kwong had made this...rather alarming announcement, Clio had taken it upon herself to lie back down on the bed, and couldn't help but smile. In the past few days, she'd been robbed of any opportunity to get rewarded for putting her ass on the line like this, trying to take down all these people. But now, she was given the opportunity to actually be rewarded for something she could actually put an effort towards. Once Maxwell came back with whatever celebration he promised...
...speaking of which, what the hell had he promised? A surprise could certainly mean anything nowadays, especially since the opportunity to off anyone you didn't like was involved. He could come back in his underwear, sporting a six-pack abs and pecs of a god, with stacks of roses and various amounts of implements for a great show back home, something for the guys watching on their computers in their moms basement to talk about with their friends one-handed, or he could have hidden a shotgun in the basement, and was now using her cluelessness as an opportunity to get the jump on her. He could be striding down the hallway, smug grin on his face, and ready to blow open the door and anyone behind it.
Well, he didn't seem to be coming back for a while, so...she could probably get changed now. Blood wasn't a good moisturizer.
Standing up next to the bed, Clio reached down and peeled off her shirt slowly. She had to close her eyes momentarily, trying to erase the fact from her mind that thousands of geeks around the country were now screen capping and getting their special sock out from what she was about to do next alone. Removing her gun from the back of her skirt's waistband, she felt around her body. It was the only thing she had left that wasn't worn down and exhausted from all these days of fighting, and, well, it was now going to be forever immortalized on the internet.
Such a fucking hurrah for her, whatever.
Straightening her bra, purple and unsurprisingly small, she felt her way around to the back of her skirt, and pulled it down to her legs. She didn't waste time kicking it closer to the bed, and...well, there she stood.
Practically naked except for her underwear.
And her eyes were still closed, because she didn't want to think about the fact that the cameras were still watching her. The world, her family, all those people were watching her, fawning over her, taking pictures of her right now for the websites...
Her eyes were still closed as she grabbed a water bottle out of the nearest bag, Maxwell's bag, and emptied it onto her skin. She started from her chest, the blood on her shirt having been given the proper chance to soak in yet. It trailed, it ran a drunken race down to her stomach, where the bulk of it still stood, even though her clothes were off. She felt it, the red mixing with the white like paints on a palette, and she knew that there was no way to get it off.
Nope, still not comparing herself to that Lady person, nosiree.
Clio took the corner of the bed's dusty blankets and wiped herself down, taking most of the blood with her to the bed. Not content with how unclean she still felt, she emptied the rest of the bottle on her lower body, trying her best to touch every pore on her skin with the stale, bottled water. Warm. The blood was only fresh and new on her legs and waist, and Clio was able to get that stuff off more easily. The blanket was now soaked in a pinkish-brown combination of blood, dried blood, and water stuck in between, as she sat there, hands clasped on the bed, eyes still squeezed shut as all the things she tried to not think about were wedging themselves like door-stoppers into her brain again.
They would have had such a better chance had Maxwell not decided to enter the room at that moment.
Judging by the fact that he wasn't expecting his new female ally to be sitting there, drenched in water, and still covered in blood in her underwear, she was guessing that one of the possibilities that used to float about in her mind about what the surprise was was not it.
Definitely not it.
....heh.
Maxwell couldn't see it, but under the purple and black hair that had covered her eyes when she leaned forward momentarily, Clio was grinning widely. Oh yes, ooooh yes. What did this look like to him? She had no idea.
What could she turn this into?
Well...the possibilities were endless, really.
There was always the manipulation route, the one that worked so well on her third...third was it, yeah, definitely...conquest.
First, you make it look like you're either sad or crying. Clio's hands, clean of blood but heavy on water, moved up to her eyes behind her hair and rubbed them. It wasn't a long one, just something little, to add the water to her eyes.
Next, you speak very carefully, just to not give yourself away.
"It's...it's okay, Maxwell...Max." Clio said softly, before clenching the bed with her hands and hoisting herself onto her bare feet.
"Max...I know this is a game, and you're not gonna care one fucking bit about what I say next, but just shut up, and listen."
Clio knew that to take a fish out of it's habitat would be the equivalent of killing it. She needed to make him feel uncomfortable, but not threatened.
"You...this is gonna sound like complete bee-ess, but...you've been probably the nicest guy to me in the last 2 years." Clio reduced her grin down to a sincere, or so it looked, smile, and faced Maxwell...Max.
"I mean, let's face it, you didn't kill me when you saw me, that's a definite plus. The previous 3 guys I met who knew who I was all tried to kill me, tried to stop me from doing this again. You were fucking honest, that was the best thing of all. You didn't try and tell me that we could have any opportunity of teaming up outside of here, try and take my trust. You weren't always nice to me, like they were, just trying to get to me. You were you, or what looks like you've become here."
Clio stepped forward slightly, and spoke again.
"You're the person I definitely need right now, and personally, I don't care what the answer is. I just want to here an answer from an honest person who doesn't have to lie to me. You're not going to lie to me, cause I know you, Max. Just be different from every guy who's answered before you, and tell the fucking truth."
Clio stepped forward again, and raised her head. Through the purple and black screen that was her hair, the smile on her face was one of pleading, of begging, something that she knew he couldn't lie to.
"Just tell me...am I beautiful?"
As the girl went sailing off the top of the little drop, she got a good look, a good feel of her hands as they touched the girl's reddened fabric. These were the hands of a murderess, the hands of someone who'd gotten a lot of blood beneath the perfectly manicured fingertips. The hands of someone who'd crossed any discernable line of morality, and stepped into an unknown abyss.
Well, pushed really. Or reached. Either way, that itty bitty thing was roaring behind her now.
There seemed to be a very, very momentary silence after she pushed her off. The moment she hit the ground, it changed, shifted. Like a little breeze wafted through, and brought the still statues to life. Well, not still statues, but rather a British mass-murderer.
"Well done! I couldn't of done a better job myself..."
...well done. Good job...cool. Accolades. From a very fine guy, if I might say so myself.
"...And you know what, I think this calls for a celebration. Could you wait for me in the bedroom for, oh, a couple of minutes or so? I'll be right back, hopefully with a little surprise in tow..."
Oh, the glories of mixed signals. There were literally (well, not literally literally, but more like the literally people used for emphasis literally, that one) millions of ways that Clio could have interpreted that sentence, but a mysterious wondering of what the hell was actually going through his head seemed to bounce up first.
She didn't have time to ask him, since he sauntered back down the bloody trail from whence they came before she could even open her mouth. That was just something she was going to need to find out later, or rather think about.
Clio stood there for a bit, watching the boy make his way through the attic, and as he worked his way out of sight, Clio sighed. He was...well, Maxwell seemed to be that odd mixture of someone you could really trust with your life, and someone who seemed to take glorious pleasure in watching people die. Honestly, the last bit didn't really surprise Clio. She knew her year, and she didn't know them as well as she could have, but there were some strange people among them, all the little hidden sociopaths among the happy, preppy, normal people. Really, didn't surprise her.
What was kinda surprising her was the fact that the little Japanese girl who lay below her seemed to have a lot of blood. As in, a lot of it. Looking down, and getting a good look at her person, her entire skirt was coated in a thick layer of plasma, skin bits, and most prominently, blood. It was soaking, dripping, and still in motion as she stood there alone. What was also of notice was that her new weapon, her sai, was also coated in the same stuff. All of the stuff that was there shouldn't have been able to cling to her shiny new weapon so tightly, it was just terrible. And her shirt, that was simply the worst. The girl had no chance of meeting her at eye level, but the blood seemed to reach up and fuck it around even more so.
I needa get changed.
A few minutes later, Clio had made her way back into her little room for the evening. Everything was how she left it, no one had taken anything from the bedroom, the only bedroom in the hall with the doors whipped right open and giving off a free show without permission. The room with all their weapons, all their belongings.
First thing was first, Clio took a bottle of water from her bag. The plastic was now all too familiar with her hands, seeing as how she'd been drinking from the same thing for the last...how many days was it again? Clio strolled over to the corner, next to a chest of drawers (and an expensive looking one at that) and undid the bottles lid. The familiar snap of plastic twisting away from its seal was a comfort, even a little bit. No one had been touching her stuff. Clio crouched down, her legs starting to ache a little bit from how much she'd been running in the last few days, and poured a little of the water into her blood-stained hands.
The most wonderful feeling in the world could have been powered to the third and it wouldn't have matched that feeling, the one she experienced now. She was being cleaned, cleaned by a bottle of warm stale water. But what did taste matter? She cupped a little bit of it in her hand and watched the water swish past the brown and red stains accumulated over the days. Clio placed the bottle down on the frizzed carpet beneath her and used the tips of her fingers to scrub the skin inpromptu-ly. It started to come off. It wasn't working that well, what with it being only water, but it was coming out. Still, the comparisons to certain literary Shakespearean nobility were lingering to a degree. She wasn't going to go down that path, however, and that was that.
Satisfied, Clio poured the water lingering on her hands onto the carpet. There wasn't any need to be all caring about the integrity and cleanliness of the carpet now, since it was never going to be used again. It would have taken far too long for her to go out, find a bathroom, and get cleaned there, so this would have to do.
She straightened herself out, and headed back over to the bed again, when, as she sat herself down, something she didn't expect happened.
The speakers that were supposed to only come on at the start of every morning screeched to life. Looking up at the nearest one, wedged in the topmost corner of the room, she resisted the urge to conform to the stupid-girl main course of action supplied within the manual and tilt her head confused.
Well, she didn't need to wait for long, since apparently all her answers were suddenly shot out of the air by...
...the fuck?
Was that...Mr. Kwong?
*
By the time Kwong had made this...rather alarming announcement, Clio had taken it upon herself to lie back down on the bed, and couldn't help but smile. In the past few days, she'd been robbed of any opportunity to get rewarded for putting her ass on the line like this, trying to take down all these people. But now, she was given the opportunity to actually be rewarded for something she could actually put an effort towards. Once Maxwell came back with whatever celebration he promised...
...speaking of which, what the hell had he promised? A surprise could certainly mean anything nowadays, especially since the opportunity to off anyone you didn't like was involved. He could come back in his underwear, sporting a six-pack abs and pecs of a god, with stacks of roses and various amounts of implements for a great show back home, something for the guys watching on their computers in their moms basement to talk about with their friends one-handed, or he could have hidden a shotgun in the basement, and was now using her cluelessness as an opportunity to get the jump on her. He could be striding down the hallway, smug grin on his face, and ready to blow open the door and anyone behind it.
Well, he didn't seem to be coming back for a while, so...she could probably get changed now. Blood wasn't a good moisturizer.
Standing up next to the bed, Clio reached down and peeled off her shirt slowly. She had to close her eyes momentarily, trying to erase the fact from her mind that thousands of geeks around the country were now screen capping and getting their special sock out from what she was about to do next alone. Removing her gun from the back of her skirt's waistband, she felt around her body. It was the only thing she had left that wasn't worn down and exhausted from all these days of fighting, and, well, it was now going to be forever immortalized on the internet.
Such a fucking hurrah for her, whatever.
Straightening her bra, purple and unsurprisingly small, she felt her way around to the back of her skirt, and pulled it down to her legs. She didn't waste time kicking it closer to the bed, and...well, there she stood.
Practically naked except for her underwear.
And her eyes were still closed, because she didn't want to think about the fact that the cameras were still watching her. The world, her family, all those people were watching her, fawning over her, taking pictures of her right now for the websites...
Her eyes were still closed as she grabbed a water bottle out of the nearest bag, Maxwell's bag, and emptied it onto her skin. She started from her chest, the blood on her shirt having been given the proper chance to soak in yet. It trailed, it ran a drunken race down to her stomach, where the bulk of it still stood, even though her clothes were off. She felt it, the red mixing with the white like paints on a palette, and she knew that there was no way to get it off.
Nope, still not comparing herself to that Lady person, nosiree.
Clio took the corner of the bed's dusty blankets and wiped herself down, taking most of the blood with her to the bed. Not content with how unclean she still felt, she emptied the rest of the bottle on her lower body, trying her best to touch every pore on her skin with the stale, bottled water. Warm. The blood was only fresh and new on her legs and waist, and Clio was able to get that stuff off more easily. The blanket was now soaked in a pinkish-brown combination of blood, dried blood, and water stuck in between, as she sat there, hands clasped on the bed, eyes still squeezed shut as all the things she tried to not think about were wedging themselves like door-stoppers into her brain again.
They would have had such a better chance had Maxwell not decided to enter the room at that moment.
Judging by the fact that he wasn't expecting his new female ally to be sitting there, drenched in water, and still covered in blood in her underwear, she was guessing that one of the possibilities that used to float about in her mind about what the surprise was was not it.
Definitely not it.
....heh.
Maxwell couldn't see it, but under the purple and black hair that had covered her eyes when she leaned forward momentarily, Clio was grinning widely. Oh yes, ooooh yes. What did this look like to him? She had no idea.
What could she turn this into?
Well...the possibilities were endless, really.
There was always the manipulation route, the one that worked so well on her third...third was it, yeah, definitely...conquest.
First, you make it look like you're either sad or crying. Clio's hands, clean of blood but heavy on water, moved up to her eyes behind her hair and rubbed them. It wasn't a long one, just something little, to add the water to her eyes.
Next, you speak very carefully, just to not give yourself away.
"It's...it's okay, Maxwell...Max." Clio said softly, before clenching the bed with her hands and hoisting herself onto her bare feet.
"Max...I know this is a game, and you're not gonna care one fucking bit about what I say next, but just shut up, and listen."
Clio knew that to take a fish out of it's habitat would be the equivalent of killing it. She needed to make him feel uncomfortable, but not threatened.
"You...this is gonna sound like complete bee-ess, but...you've been probably the nicest guy to me in the last 2 years." Clio reduced her grin down to a sincere, or so it looked, smile, and faced Maxwell...Max.
"I mean, let's face it, you didn't kill me when you saw me, that's a definite plus. The previous 3 guys I met who knew who I was all tried to kill me, tried to stop me from doing this again. You were fucking honest, that was the best thing of all. You didn't try and tell me that we could have any opportunity of teaming up outside of here, try and take my trust. You weren't always nice to me, like they were, just trying to get to me. You were you, or what looks like you've become here."
Clio stepped forward slightly, and spoke again.
"You're the person I definitely need right now, and personally, I don't care what the answer is. I just want to here an answer from an honest person who doesn't have to lie to me. You're not going to lie to me, cause I know you, Max. Just be different from every guy who's answered before you, and tell the fucking truth."
Clio stepped forward again, and raised her head. Through the purple and black screen that was her hair, the smile on her face was one of pleading, of begging, something that she knew he couldn't lie to.
"Just tell me...am I beautiful?"
Well, you don't see that every day...
Maxwell wasn't sure if he should be confused, enthralled, sympathetic or seriously creeped out by the scene that lay before him...
It was probably safe to assume that he was feeling all the above at then exact same time.
Clio was... Well, he wasn't exactly sure WHAT she'd been doing before he came in. She was just sitting there, practically naked save for her underwear and drenched in water. It would have been a stimulating sight if it wasn't for all the blood that covered her skin and the once-white blankets. That, and the fact that her long black and purple hair was covering her face made the sight more chilling then it was alluring for the English boy.
...Not that the sight didn't pique his interest nevertheless...
Good god, what on earth was she doing in here? Was she washing all that blood off? Is that it? If so, then why didn't she bother to do it in the bathroom or something?
Unless... Maybe she's preparing hereself for.....
NO! No, now's not the time for those kind of thoughts Maxwell...
"It's...it's okay, Maxwell...Max."
On that note, she slowly let herself down from from the bed and stood to attention, her face still hidden behind a veil of tangled hair.
"Max...I know this is a game, and you're not gonna care one fucking bit about what I say next, but just shut up, and listen."
He couldn't help but raise his eyebrow at THAT particular remark.
"You...this is gonna sound like complete bee-ess, but...you've been probably the nicest guy to me in the last 2 years."
It didn't take Maxwell long to figure out that something wasn't right here, what with Clio acting very suspiciously all of a sudden. Twenty minutes ago she was going on about she would gladly kill him for a chance to get a drink that WASN'T water, and now she was acting all innocent and flowery in front of him. From the looks of things, what she said earlier about being an excellent study project for some psychology major seemed to be much less of an exaggeration then Maxwell had first anticipated. Part of him wanted to just lift his gun and take her out on the spot. Save him the trouble of having to do it later anyway...
...And yet, he honestly couldn't bring himself to do that...
"I mean, let's face it, you didn't kill me when you saw me, that's a definite plus. The previous 3 guys I met who knew who I was all tried to kill me, tried to stop me from doing this again. You were fucking honest, that was the best thing of all. You didn't try and tell me that we could have any opportunity of teaming up outside of here, try and take my trust. You weren't always nice to me, like they were, just trying to get to me. You were you, or what looks like you've become here."
She took a step forward, prompting Maxwell to stand alert in case she tried to jump him or something. The young Brit decided to take the opportunity to check out the almost naked killer standing before him. Not specifically for voyeuristic reasons, but in order to see if she had a knife or something on her.
Thankfully, unless she'd somehow hidden a razorblade in her bra, there weren't any weapons on her. She was completely at his mercy. Leaving herself wide open for him...
What the devil is her game? Is this how she's killed her victims? By tempting them only to then slit their throat when she got the chance? No, that can't be right... She's completely unarmed. And if she wanted to kill me, then why not just grab the gun and shoot me through the door? There must be some ulterior motive to this. Some reason as to why she'd be doing this that doesn't involve......
...............
....Does she?
No, surely not...
Then again, it makes perfect sense. God knows how much i'm desperate for a....... No, stop that Maxwell. Thats just wishful thinking messing around with your common sense again...
But, what else could she want? If she wanted you dead, she'd of already tried to gun you down on the spot or something. Its not like she could choke you to death or something. And besides, if she wants to THAT badly, then why shouldn't I...
Damnit Maxwell! This is RIDICULOUS! We're in the middle of Survival of the fucking Fittest here, not some seedy bar in the middle of downtown Las Vegas! Why would ANYONE in their right mind want to do that kind here of all places, in front of the entire world!
......................................
.........Then again, how could I honestly refuse such an offer?
..........................
"You're the person I definitely need right now, and personally, I don't care what the answer is. I just want to here an answer from an honest person who doesn't have to lie to me. You're not going to lie to me, cause I know you, Max. Just be different from every guy who's answered before you, and tell the fucking truth."
He finally smiled now, the gun and his recently acquired bottle of wine slowly dropping from his hands onto the soft carpet he was standing on.
...Sure, why not.
There was of course, the possibility that he was about this too deeply, and that she really WAS just being friendly. Even so, the fact of matter remained that what happened next could only end well for him.
On the one hand, he and this young and VERY attractive woman might be about to experience the thrill of a lifetime. On the other hand, she might be about to try and kill him, prompting the young Brit into removing the competition with his bare hands once again and getting one step closer to his ticket off this blasted island. Who knows, maybe she'll try both? And if it turns out on the off-chance that he'd been getting the wrong message the whole time... Well, tough luck. 'No thank you' wasn't a legitimate answer here anymore, now that she'd already tempted him this far. He was going to enjoy this thoroughly, whether she'd like to or not...
Yes, truly it was a win-win situation.
"Just tell me...am I beautiful?"
Rather then giving a straight answer, Maxwell simply smiled warmly and gently moved the hair that was covering Clio's stunning visage so that he could actually look into that pair of exotic eyes.
"Of course..." he whispered to her, using that charming and sincere voice of his that had worked so well in the past to its full potential.
Your move now. Don't disappoint me...
Maxwell wasn't sure if he should be confused, enthralled, sympathetic or seriously creeped out by the scene that lay before him...
It was probably safe to assume that he was feeling all the above at then exact same time.
Clio was... Well, he wasn't exactly sure WHAT she'd been doing before he came in. She was just sitting there, practically naked save for her underwear and drenched in water. It would have been a stimulating sight if it wasn't for all the blood that covered her skin and the once-white blankets. That, and the fact that her long black and purple hair was covering her face made the sight more chilling then it was alluring for the English boy.
...Not that the sight didn't pique his interest nevertheless...
Good god, what on earth was she doing in here? Was she washing all that blood off? Is that it? If so, then why didn't she bother to do it in the bathroom or something?
Unless... Maybe she's preparing hereself for.....
NO! No, now's not the time for those kind of thoughts Maxwell...
"It's...it's okay, Maxwell...Max."
On that note, she slowly let herself down from from the bed and stood to attention, her face still hidden behind a veil of tangled hair.
"Max...I know this is a game, and you're not gonna care one fucking bit about what I say next, but just shut up, and listen."
He couldn't help but raise his eyebrow at THAT particular remark.
"You...this is gonna sound like complete bee-ess, but...you've been probably the nicest guy to me in the last 2 years."
It didn't take Maxwell long to figure out that something wasn't right here, what with Clio acting very suspiciously all of a sudden. Twenty minutes ago she was going on about she would gladly kill him for a chance to get a drink that WASN'T water, and now she was acting all innocent and flowery in front of him. From the looks of things, what she said earlier about being an excellent study project for some psychology major seemed to be much less of an exaggeration then Maxwell had first anticipated. Part of him wanted to just lift his gun and take her out on the spot. Save him the trouble of having to do it later anyway...
...And yet, he honestly couldn't bring himself to do that...
"I mean, let's face it, you didn't kill me when you saw me, that's a definite plus. The previous 3 guys I met who knew who I was all tried to kill me, tried to stop me from doing this again. You were fucking honest, that was the best thing of all. You didn't try and tell me that we could have any opportunity of teaming up outside of here, try and take my trust. You weren't always nice to me, like they were, just trying to get to me. You were you, or what looks like you've become here."
She took a step forward, prompting Maxwell to stand alert in case she tried to jump him or something. The young Brit decided to take the opportunity to check out the almost naked killer standing before him. Not specifically for voyeuristic reasons, but in order to see if she had a knife or something on her.
Thankfully, unless she'd somehow hidden a razorblade in her bra, there weren't any weapons on her. She was completely at his mercy. Leaving herself wide open for him...
What the devil is her game? Is this how she's killed her victims? By tempting them only to then slit their throat when she got the chance? No, that can't be right... She's completely unarmed. And if she wanted to kill me, then why not just grab the gun and shoot me through the door? There must be some ulterior motive to this. Some reason as to why she'd be doing this that doesn't involve......
...............
....Does she?
No, surely not...
Then again, it makes perfect sense. God knows how much i'm desperate for a....... No, stop that Maxwell. Thats just wishful thinking messing around with your common sense again...
But, what else could she want? If she wanted you dead, she'd of already tried to gun you down on the spot or something. Its not like she could choke you to death or something. And besides, if she wants to THAT badly, then why shouldn't I...
Damnit Maxwell! This is RIDICULOUS! We're in the middle of Survival of the fucking Fittest here, not some seedy bar in the middle of downtown Las Vegas! Why would ANYONE in their right mind want to do that kind here of all places, in front of the entire world!
......................................
.........Then again, how could I honestly refuse such an offer?
..........................
"You're the person I definitely need right now, and personally, I don't care what the answer is. I just want to here an answer from an honest person who doesn't have to lie to me. You're not going to lie to me, cause I know you, Max. Just be different from every guy who's answered before you, and tell the fucking truth."
He finally smiled now, the gun and his recently acquired bottle of wine slowly dropping from his hands onto the soft carpet he was standing on.
...Sure, why not.
There was of course, the possibility that he was about this too deeply, and that she really WAS just being friendly. Even so, the fact of matter remained that what happened next could only end well for him.
On the one hand, he and this young and VERY attractive woman might be about to experience the thrill of a lifetime. On the other hand, she might be about to try and kill him, prompting the young Brit into removing the competition with his bare hands once again and getting one step closer to his ticket off this blasted island. Who knows, maybe she'll try both? And if it turns out on the off-chance that he'd been getting the wrong message the whole time... Well, tough luck. 'No thank you' wasn't a legitimate answer here anymore, now that she'd already tempted him this far. He was going to enjoy this thoroughly, whether she'd like to or not...
Yes, truly it was a win-win situation.
"Just tell me...am I beautiful?"
Rather then giving a straight answer, Maxwell simply smiled warmly and gently moved the hair that was covering Clio's stunning visage so that he could actually look into that pair of exotic eyes.
"Of course..." he whispered to her, using that charming and sincere voice of his that had worked so well in the past to its full potential.
Your move now. Don't disappoint me...
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fiori. 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.
It's working. It's...it's actually working. He's either falling for it or trying his own fucking thing, but goddammit, it's working!
Clio couldn't help but smile a flickering smile through the strands of her hair as she stood before the most handsome man in the world right now. Honestly, anyone that wasn't a dumb American or a knuckle-brained Iranian or whatever was multiplied tenfold in her book; Dustin Royal? Overrated. Mike Jeffries? Good, but nothing to gab about. This guy, however, she knew it would only lead to great things between them.
Well, in the next few seconds, there really wouldn't be anything between them, now would there?
The boy's hands reached out and spread away the hair strands blocking her face. They were the most comforting hands in the world, because they were familiar hands. They weren't the hands of a dumbass, they were the hands of a cold, calculated killer. They weren't the hands of a teenage boy, they were the hands of a guy who'd flown past all those lines of greying morality with her. They weren't just kids anymore, they were people, who'd made the choice to start killing and save their own lives.
And those hands hid a killers face, and that killers face hid a beautiful soul. Beautiful to her, fuck anyone else. He was the one person who knew what she went through, and that voice, that beautiful voice...
"Of course..."
That voice was the lead-in to something beautiful.
Raising her hand to his, she clasped it softly, feeling his hand like it was a new patch of skin, something warm and wonderful. She didn't waste any time after that. Still keeping his hand in hers, she moved so close to him that they were touching at the hip. Their lips were so close that a fly wouldn't have been able to co-ordinate through without crashing. Every breath was magnified ten-fold as Clio spoke for one last time before it really began:
"Max...I'm yours."
And just like that, the two most powerful players on the island, Clio Gabriella and Maxwell Lombardi, kissed.
Clio couldn't help but smile a flickering smile through the strands of her hair as she stood before the most handsome man in the world right now. Honestly, anyone that wasn't a dumb American or a knuckle-brained Iranian or whatever was multiplied tenfold in her book; Dustin Royal? Overrated. Mike Jeffries? Good, but nothing to gab about. This guy, however, she knew it would only lead to great things between them.
Well, in the next few seconds, there really wouldn't be anything between them, now would there?
The boy's hands reached out and spread away the hair strands blocking her face. They were the most comforting hands in the world, because they were familiar hands. They weren't the hands of a dumbass, they were the hands of a cold, calculated killer. They weren't the hands of a teenage boy, they were the hands of a guy who'd flown past all those lines of greying morality with her. They weren't just kids anymore, they were people, who'd made the choice to start killing and save their own lives.
And those hands hid a killers face, and that killers face hid a beautiful soul. Beautiful to her, fuck anyone else. He was the one person who knew what she went through, and that voice, that beautiful voice...
"Of course..."
That voice was the lead-in to something beautiful.
Raising her hand to his, she clasped it softly, feeling his hand like it was a new patch of skin, something warm and wonderful. She didn't waste any time after that. Still keeping his hand in hers, she moved so close to him that they were touching at the hip. Their lips were so close that a fly wouldn't have been able to co-ordinate through without crashing. Every breath was magnified ten-fold as Clio spoke for one last time before it really began:
"Max...I'm yours."
And just like that, the two most powerful players on the island, Clio Gabriella and Maxwell Lombardi, kissed.
This was it.
Finally, after spending the last few days getting shot at and fighting for his life, Maxwell was finally going to get reward he deserved.
Okay, so yes he DID have a lot of fun when it came down to doing the actual killing. But apart from those brief moments of excitement, his time on this island had been practically hellish. Being reduced to sleeping in caves or against tree trunks, having to survive on nothing but bread and stale water, enduring the elements of the great outdoors without a roof over his head... Maxwell loathed every second of it.
So to find himself barely centimetres away from one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met, with a wide smile on her face and passionate intentions in her heart, was something of a godsend for youthful Englishman.
"Max...I'm yours."
Indeed, you are...
And, just like that, the girl with purple streaks in her hair and the boy with red highlights in his own leaned towards one another and kissed.
It was a simple, yet tender, kiss which barely lasted a few seconds. Barely chaste compared to what Maxwell had experience in the past, but pleasurable nevertheless. The fact that the last kiss he'd shared was a rather mechanical one with his ex-lover Vera Somethingorother made the short yet sensual one he'd just had with Clio a hundred times better.
As their lips parted, the two took a moment to look one another in the eye, almost as if they were silently asking each other if they were really about to go through with this. But instead of saying anything, the two simply smiled and resumed the kiss, wrapping their arms around one another as it slowly increased in passion. It wasn't long until the simple kiss had evolved into slow yet sensual make-out, the two lovers inching towards the bed as their lips pressed against one another. Maxwell, of course, was very careful to not rush things too quickly. Whilst things were starting to get a little more passionate, to do something rash like shoving his tongue down her throat at this stage would only ruin the moment. After all, chances are he wouldn't get another chance to do this until he was finally off this accursed island, so he wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as he possibly could... Besides, if Clio desired him to be a little more forceful, he'd be more then glad enough to satisfy her.
As they neared the bed, Maxwell pulled back once more to look Clio in the eyes again. Those mismatched, yet undeniably stunning eyes. Truly, a girl as beautiful as Clio shouldn't even exist beyond the boundaries of fiction. The chances of coming across such a person in this game had to bee 200-1... And yet, here he was, moments away from one of the greatest experiences in his life.
He smiled, then leaned forwards and gave Clio a brief peck on the lips before working his way down to her neck, giving the young woman brief kisses as his hands wrapped around her back and undid the straps to her bra. As he discarded the piece of clothing, he took the opportunity to observe his lover's exposed chest with anticipation. Hmm, not as impressive as Vera's by a long margin. Oh well, I suppose it doesn't make that much of a difference anyway...
After another moment's pause, the two resumed their kiss as they inched a few more feet towards the bed, falling over its side and landing on the soft mattress in each other's arms.
And to think that somewhere out there, people were fighting and trying to stay alive, whilst the two top killers on the island enjoyed one another's company in a tight embrace...
Karma, as it seemed, worked in very mysterious ways.
Finally, after spending the last few days getting shot at and fighting for his life, Maxwell was finally going to get reward he deserved.
Okay, so yes he DID have a lot of fun when it came down to doing the actual killing. But apart from those brief moments of excitement, his time on this island had been practically hellish. Being reduced to sleeping in caves or against tree trunks, having to survive on nothing but bread and stale water, enduring the elements of the great outdoors without a roof over his head... Maxwell loathed every second of it.
So to find himself barely centimetres away from one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met, with a wide smile on her face and passionate intentions in her heart, was something of a godsend for youthful Englishman.
"Max...I'm yours."
Indeed, you are...
And, just like that, the girl with purple streaks in her hair and the boy with red highlights in his own leaned towards one another and kissed.
It was a simple, yet tender, kiss which barely lasted a few seconds. Barely chaste compared to what Maxwell had experience in the past, but pleasurable nevertheless. The fact that the last kiss he'd shared was a rather mechanical one with his ex-lover Vera Somethingorother made the short yet sensual one he'd just had with Clio a hundred times better.
As their lips parted, the two took a moment to look one another in the eye, almost as if they were silently asking each other if they were really about to go through with this. But instead of saying anything, the two simply smiled and resumed the kiss, wrapping their arms around one another as it slowly increased in passion. It wasn't long until the simple kiss had evolved into slow yet sensual make-out, the two lovers inching towards the bed as their lips pressed against one another. Maxwell, of course, was very careful to not rush things too quickly. Whilst things were starting to get a little more passionate, to do something rash like shoving his tongue down her throat at this stage would only ruin the moment. After all, chances are he wouldn't get another chance to do this until he was finally off this accursed island, so he wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as he possibly could... Besides, if Clio desired him to be a little more forceful, he'd be more then glad enough to satisfy her.
As they neared the bed, Maxwell pulled back once more to look Clio in the eyes again. Those mismatched, yet undeniably stunning eyes. Truly, a girl as beautiful as Clio shouldn't even exist beyond the boundaries of fiction. The chances of coming across such a person in this game had to bee 200-1... And yet, here he was, moments away from one of the greatest experiences in his life.
He smiled, then leaned forwards and gave Clio a brief peck on the lips before working his way down to her neck, giving the young woman brief kisses as his hands wrapped around her back and undid the straps to her bra. As he discarded the piece of clothing, he took the opportunity to observe his lover's exposed chest with anticipation. Hmm, not as impressive as Vera's by a long margin. Oh well, I suppose it doesn't make that much of a difference anyway...
After another moment's pause, the two resumed their kiss as they inched a few more feet towards the bed, falling over its side and landing on the soft mattress in each other's arms.
And to think that somewhere out there, people were fighting and trying to stay alive, whilst the two top killers on the island enjoyed one another's company in a tight embrace...
Karma, as it seemed, worked in very mysterious ways.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fiori. 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.
((Double-gming-post done with Inky's permission))
For the next minute or so, the two lovers lay there on the bed in each other's arms, kissing one another with a soft passion.
Maxwell was tempted to take it even further, after all this was the first opportunity he'd have in a while of enjoying another woman's company like this. But at the same time, he wanted to savour this moment for all its worth. Besides, foreplay was in many ways Maxwell's favourite part of sex. That, and the actually act of sex itself. All in due time Maxwell... No need to rush.
As Maxwell's lips pressed against Clio's, the young man took the opportunity handed to gently caress his partner's left breast with his hand. Whilst it was still a shame that Clio happened to be relatively flat-chested compared to some of the women he'd been with in the past, the fact that he was still able to touch her this way without her complaining made it all the more worthwhile. A soft sigh of pleasure eminating from Clio as he did so only increasing the experience.
But as the two kissed and touched one another, Clio's hand at that moment happened to be inside Maxwell's jacket. At first she had simply been caressing Maxwell's chest, but as her hand touched the metal of Maxwell's pistol she couldn't help but grab it and take it out, aiming it at Maxwell's chin from her prone position underneath him. At first she seemed to have the young Brit at her mercy, only for her to then notice that Maxwell in turn had grabbed her own pistol from where it had been left stranded on the bed and was currently aiming it at her chest.
The two paused for a moment, their weapons aiming at one another. At first, neither of them were sure of what to make of the situation. Or what to do next for that matter...
But soon enough, without even saying a word, the two lovers simply smiled and placed the guns on the bedside table as they resumed their kiss with twice as much passion as before.
This time however, after quickly removing his jacket, the two spun over so that Clio was on top with Maxwell underneath. What had started as a simple peck had finally evolved into a full-on makeout, the two lover's tongues dancing in one another's mouths in excitement. The young Brit's arms grasped onto Clio, one hand clutching her flowing hair whilst the other squeezed her finely shaped rear. For the next few minutes, the two young lovers continued to passionately make-out with one another. Maxwell embracing the half-naked girl against him as Clio explored his mouth with her tongue. A wave of pleasure flowed over the young Brit as Clio's delicate hand gently caressed his groin, prompting him to get up and pry himself from Clio's grasp.
The Italian girl sprawled out on her back against the bed as Maxwell propped himself up onto his knees, looking into one another's eyes as they caught their breath. Without wasting any time, the young Brit undid his tie and threw is away, quickly moving on to undoing the buttons on his shirt. It was at that moment that he noticed that some of the blood that had covered Clio was now covering his own shirt... Oh well, it was bound to happen eventually anyway.
Once the buttons were undone, he took the shirt off and threw it away, exposing his athletic upper body to the girl in front of him. Apart from several bruises from his fight with Daniel Blessing, it was quite a sight to behold. Sure, he wasn't exactly a body-builder, but he was still in far better shape then some of the other simians Clio must have encountered in this position.
Hmm, what now? So many options... But I think I'll let her decide what to do next from here. Can't let myself have all the fun, can I?
For the next minute or so, the two lovers lay there on the bed in each other's arms, kissing one another with a soft passion.
Maxwell was tempted to take it even further, after all this was the first opportunity he'd have in a while of enjoying another woman's company like this. But at the same time, he wanted to savour this moment for all its worth. Besides, foreplay was in many ways Maxwell's favourite part of sex. That, and the actually act of sex itself. All in due time Maxwell... No need to rush.
As Maxwell's lips pressed against Clio's, the young man took the opportunity handed to gently caress his partner's left breast with his hand. Whilst it was still a shame that Clio happened to be relatively flat-chested compared to some of the women he'd been with in the past, the fact that he was still able to touch her this way without her complaining made it all the more worthwhile. A soft sigh of pleasure eminating from Clio as he did so only increasing the experience.
But as the two kissed and touched one another, Clio's hand at that moment happened to be inside Maxwell's jacket. At first she had simply been caressing Maxwell's chest, but as her hand touched the metal of Maxwell's pistol she couldn't help but grab it and take it out, aiming it at Maxwell's chin from her prone position underneath him. At first she seemed to have the young Brit at her mercy, only for her to then notice that Maxwell in turn had grabbed her own pistol from where it had been left stranded on the bed and was currently aiming it at her chest.
The two paused for a moment, their weapons aiming at one another. At first, neither of them were sure of what to make of the situation. Or what to do next for that matter...
But soon enough, without even saying a word, the two lovers simply smiled and placed the guns on the bedside table as they resumed their kiss with twice as much passion as before.
This time however, after quickly removing his jacket, the two spun over so that Clio was on top with Maxwell underneath. What had started as a simple peck had finally evolved into a full-on makeout, the two lover's tongues dancing in one another's mouths in excitement. The young Brit's arms grasped onto Clio, one hand clutching her flowing hair whilst the other squeezed her finely shaped rear. For the next few minutes, the two young lovers continued to passionately make-out with one another. Maxwell embracing the half-naked girl against him as Clio explored his mouth with her tongue. A wave of pleasure flowed over the young Brit as Clio's delicate hand gently caressed his groin, prompting him to get up and pry himself from Clio's grasp.
The Italian girl sprawled out on her back against the bed as Maxwell propped himself up onto his knees, looking into one another's eyes as they caught their breath. Without wasting any time, the young Brit undid his tie and threw is away, quickly moving on to undoing the buttons on his shirt. It was at that moment that he noticed that some of the blood that had covered Clio was now covering his own shirt... Oh well, it was bound to happen eventually anyway.
Once the buttons were undone, he took the shirt off and threw it away, exposing his athletic upper body to the girl in front of him. Apart from several bruises from his fight with Daniel Blessing, it was quite a sight to behold. Sure, he wasn't exactly a body-builder, but he was still in far better shape then some of the other simians Clio must have encountered in this position.
Hmm, what now? So many options... But I think I'll let her decide what to do next from here. Can't let myself have all the fun, can I?
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fiori. 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.
((I'm soo sorry there's no excuse for me taking this long >.<))
I-
The boy removed his tie.
Have got to be-
And soon, the boy was perched there, in the prime position for him to take her.
The luckiest girl in the world.
The best actress in the world.
But he stopped. That was her queue.
Folding her legs across, Clio crawled forward towards Maxwell. Her hair hang low, just showing her face, just covering her exposed breasts. The crawling act, it wasn't her best, hell it rarely worked right because she would always look menacing, and therefore not even the least bit titillating. But now, she knew she had done it right.
You didn't.
Not wasting her time, her lips started their work. She kissed the bottom of his naval first, while her hands grasped his excellent arse and his wonderfully athletic left leg. What an excellent body it was, on that matter. The crowd she chose, the jocks, they all had to be the same; oversized, more muscles than brains, and their stomachs looked like bulging rope, like they knew that someone would eventually try to shoot them or attack them there. Her nails dug in, not quite trying to hurt him, but almost like, well, just her causing him a little bit of pain. After a few good pinches, covered up only slightly by the sensual aura she hoped radiated from her kisses. Soon, they drifted upwards, towards his nipples. Now here was where the girl was an absolute expert. Her tongue graced them, hell if she was into this stuff she would have devoured them whole, but all she did was make sure that she knew the male body better than he did. Just as planned.
She moved up to his collar, and her hands moved slowly towards Max's sparkling white pants, pants speckled with dirt. It was all those little things, even in a life or death situation that made her hunger for one of the good lives of a nice little rich girl. Good clothing. White clothing. She never had that stuff. And now it felt like in more ways than one that she was branching up, grabbing onto something she so desperately wanted and yanking it down to her level. This guy was richer. This guy was a bigger killer than her, 6 people was it? She only had 5, he had 6. So it wasn't as much making her move on a guy who was slightly out of her league more than making him know that he wanted her. He needed her. He was going to want her, all of her, down to her little 5 kills.
Clio ripped the belt off with ease, and in a flash, his pants were down. All that lay between the two becoming one was their underwear.
And all the while Clio was still making it work where it counted. She bit down hard on his neck, and even though she knew he wasn't going to bleed, she knew that this would be a constant reminder of her. Within a few hours, the blood vessels would show, and a little bit of her would be with him until he rotted. Wonderful, no?
Wasting no time, she started to make out with him again. Clio kept him thoroughly distracted as her hands intertwined with his, bringing them around her figure. Those rough hands, those killers hands were now on the edge of her newest pair of panties, and she was their guide. They moved down, tugging those expensive strings with them, alllll the way down to her knees, perched right on the bed.
Clio pulled out of the kiss at a snails pace, and she leaned back onto the bed. The only pair of clothing on her entire body was now aching to be taken away, just like she wanted, no, needed. Her perfectly executed plan to bring him down to her, make him thinkKNOW that he needed her just as much as she needed him.
Come to me Max.
Come to me Max.Perfect.
I-
The boy removed his tie.
Have got to be-
And soon, the boy was perched there, in the prime position for him to take her.
The luckiest girl in the world.
The best actress in the world.
But he stopped. That was her queue.
Folding her legs across, Clio crawled forward towards Maxwell. Her hair hang low, just showing her face, just covering her exposed breasts. The crawling act, it wasn't her best, hell it rarely worked right because she would always look menacing, and therefore not even the least bit titillating. But now, she knew she had done it right.
You didn't.
Not wasting her time, her lips started their work. She kissed the bottom of his naval first, while her hands grasped his excellent arse and his wonderfully athletic left leg. What an excellent body it was, on that matter. The crowd she chose, the jocks, they all had to be the same; oversized, more muscles than brains, and their stomachs looked like bulging rope, like they knew that someone would eventually try to shoot them or attack them there. Her nails dug in, not quite trying to hurt him, but almost like, well, just her causing him a little bit of pain. After a few good pinches, covered up only slightly by the sensual aura she hoped radiated from her kisses. Soon, they drifted upwards, towards his nipples. Now here was where the girl was an absolute expert. Her tongue graced them, hell if she was into this stuff she would have devoured them whole, but all she did was make sure that she knew the male body better than he did. Just as planned.
She moved up to his collar, and her hands moved slowly towards Max's sparkling white pants, pants speckled with dirt. It was all those little things, even in a life or death situation that made her hunger for one of the good lives of a nice little rich girl. Good clothing. White clothing. She never had that stuff. And now it felt like in more ways than one that she was branching up, grabbing onto something she so desperately wanted and yanking it down to her level. This guy was richer. This guy was a bigger killer than her, 6 people was it? She only had 5, he had 6. So it wasn't as much making her move on a guy who was slightly out of her league more than making him know that he wanted her. He needed her. He was going to want her, all of her, down to her little 5 kills.
Clio ripped the belt off with ease, and in a flash, his pants were down. All that lay between the two becoming one was their underwear.
And all the while Clio was still making it work where it counted. She bit down hard on his neck, and even though she knew he wasn't going to bleed, she knew that this would be a constant reminder of her. Within a few hours, the blood vessels would show, and a little bit of her would be with him until he rotted. Wonderful, no?
Wasting no time, she started to make out with him again. Clio kept him thoroughly distracted as her hands intertwined with his, bringing them around her figure. Those rough hands, those killers hands were now on the edge of her newest pair of panties, and she was their guide. They moved down, tugging those expensive strings with them, alllll the way down to her knees, perched right on the bed.
Clio pulled out of the kiss at a snails pace, and she leaned back onto the bed. The only pair of clothing on her entire body was now aching to be taken away, just like she wanted, no, needed. Her perfectly executed plan to bring him down to her, make him thinkKNOW that he needed her just as much as she needed him.
Come to me Max.
Come to me Max.Perfect.
When Maxwell first laid eyes on Clio, the last thing he'd expected was for both of them to wind up in THIS situation of all things.
Not that he was complaining... This was far better then the two of them shooting each other to death. Sure, they were probably being watched by the entire country by now. God knows what his parents were thinking of him right now, sleeping with a borderline psychopath after butchering six people in a row. Something told him that there were very few parents out there that would actually approve of such a thing.
But unlike some people, Maxwell didn't care in the slightest. He didn't care about what his parents thought about him, or what anyone thought about him at that moment. He didn't care about the fact that he was about to sleep with someone on live TV. All Maxwell Lombardi cared about at that particular moment in time was that within a few seconds from now, he and Clio were about to have the experience of a lifetime. And considering the fact that by this point Maxwell was already having the most fun he'd ever had on the island, the young Brit just couldn't wait for what was about to happen.
...........
...Well, he was having the most fun he'd had on the island since his last kill anyway.
Not the right time or place to be thinking about that Maxwell...
With a dashing smile on his face, the young Brit slowly removed the last piece of clothing from Clio's body as he inched closer towards her. By this point, he was poised right above her in nothing but his underwear and a pair of socks, his hands keeping him upright as Clio's went to work on removing his removing his underwear and socks. Once that was done, Maxwell took one last look into Clio's mismatched eyes before moving in.
Okay, just need to position myself right and... Ahhhh, THERE we are!
There was now practically no space between them, a wave of exhilaration flowing through Maxwell as he and Clio finally connected. Like before, his movements were slow but sensual at first, but quickly picking up pace as the two of them began to get more into it. A soft moan of pleasure emanated from Clio as Maxwell thrusted back and forth, her hands gripping his firms shoulders and pulling him closer. It wasn't long until the momentum began to build up, slowly edging towards the climax which Maxwell was hoping to put off for as long as possible.
This... THIS is more like it! This is what i've been waiting for this whole time! What i've been WORKING towards! What I DESERVE after faffing about this island for so DAMN long! And all those other pathetic bastards out there are too busy shooting themselves in the face to do anything about it. And whilst they're all dying horribly, here I am making sweet love to a beautiful woman in the comfort of and safety of this mansion. And there's nothing stopping me this time. Not a single damn thin-
CREAK!
............
....Of course. How stupid of me to think that I could POSSIBLY have a moment to myself without some cunt popping out of the woodwork like that.
The young Brit stopped what he was doing and turned his head to the door to find another girl looking at him. An astonishingly dull looking one at that, with yellow streaks in her hair and a smiley face on her shirt. She seemed to be saying something... Something Maxwell didn't quite hear.
After all, at that moment in time, Maxwell was far too enraged to listen to some bitch with yellow highlights in her hair.
Why... Whenever I want to have a moment to MYSELF... Do I have to be INTERRUPTED by some fucking moron who can't tell when to mind their own business! Fucking whore. Fucking air-brained slut. This was MY time! MY moment of glory! MY break from this godawful game!
But if you bastards are THAT desperate to drag me back into playing so soon, then i'll by all means be more then happy to oblige...
On that note, the young Brit stretched out his arm to grab the pistol he'd left on the bedside table. Namely the Korth Pistol he'd removed from Daniel's corpse. Clio seemed to have the same idea, reaching out for her own pistol at the same time.
Once the two killers had retrieved their guns, neither of them wasted any time as they each unloaded several bullets in their intruder's direction.
Not that he was complaining... This was far better then the two of them shooting each other to death. Sure, they were probably being watched by the entire country by now. God knows what his parents were thinking of him right now, sleeping with a borderline psychopath after butchering six people in a row. Something told him that there were very few parents out there that would actually approve of such a thing.
But unlike some people, Maxwell didn't care in the slightest. He didn't care about what his parents thought about him, or what anyone thought about him at that moment. He didn't care about the fact that he was about to sleep with someone on live TV. All Maxwell Lombardi cared about at that particular moment in time was that within a few seconds from now, he and Clio were about to have the experience of a lifetime. And considering the fact that by this point Maxwell was already having the most fun he'd ever had on the island, the young Brit just couldn't wait for what was about to happen.
...........
...Well, he was having the most fun he'd had on the island since his last kill anyway.
Not the right time or place to be thinking about that Maxwell...
With a dashing smile on his face, the young Brit slowly removed the last piece of clothing from Clio's body as he inched closer towards her. By this point, he was poised right above her in nothing but his underwear and a pair of socks, his hands keeping him upright as Clio's went to work on removing his removing his underwear and socks. Once that was done, Maxwell took one last look into Clio's mismatched eyes before moving in.
Okay, just need to position myself right and... Ahhhh, THERE we are!
There was now practically no space between them, a wave of exhilaration flowing through Maxwell as he and Clio finally connected. Like before, his movements were slow but sensual at first, but quickly picking up pace as the two of them began to get more into it. A soft moan of pleasure emanated from Clio as Maxwell thrusted back and forth, her hands gripping his firms shoulders and pulling him closer. It wasn't long until the momentum began to build up, slowly edging towards the climax which Maxwell was hoping to put off for as long as possible.
This... THIS is more like it! This is what i've been waiting for this whole time! What i've been WORKING towards! What I DESERVE after faffing about this island for so DAMN long! And all those other pathetic bastards out there are too busy shooting themselves in the face to do anything about it. And whilst they're all dying horribly, here I am making sweet love to a beautiful woman in the comfort of and safety of this mansion. And there's nothing stopping me this time. Not a single damn thin-
CREAK!
............
....Of course. How stupid of me to think that I could POSSIBLY have a moment to myself without some cunt popping out of the woodwork like that.
The young Brit stopped what he was doing and turned his head to the door to find another girl looking at him. An astonishingly dull looking one at that, with yellow streaks in her hair and a smiley face on her shirt. She seemed to be saying something... Something Maxwell didn't quite hear.
After all, at that moment in time, Maxwell was far too enraged to listen to some bitch with yellow highlights in her hair.
Why... Whenever I want to have a moment to MYSELF... Do I have to be INTERRUPTED by some fucking moron who can't tell when to mind their own business! Fucking whore. Fucking air-brained slut. This was MY time! MY moment of glory! MY break from this godawful game!
But if you bastards are THAT desperate to drag me back into playing so soon, then i'll by all means be more then happy to oblige...
On that note, the young Brit stretched out his arm to grab the pistol he'd left on the bedside table. Namely the Korth Pistol he'd removed from Daniel's corpse. Clio seemed to have the same idea, reaching out for her own pistol at the same time.
Once the two killers had retrieved their guns, neither of them wasted any time as they each unloaded several bullets in their intruder's direction.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fiori. 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.
((Placeholdering again because I think Maxwell and Clio probably want to get moving))
Marybeth eventually stopped writing and went into the mansion.
She heard some movement from the upper floors, so decides to investigate.
She happens across a couple in the throes of whatever they are doing, and says something appropriately witty.
Marybeth gets pumped full of lead for her troubles.
G027: Marybeth Witherspoon - Deceased
Marybeth eventually stopped writing and went into the mansion.
She heard some movement from the upper floors, so decides to investigate.
She happens across a couple in the throes of whatever they are doing, and says something appropriately witty.
Marybeth gets pumped full of lead for her troubles.
G027: Marybeth Witherspoon - Deceased
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solomir. 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.
Everything that happened before the girl entered the room wasn't going right. It dawned on Clio, almost halfway through the act, that she wasn't just getting fucked by one of the hottest guys she'd ever seen. She was getting fucked by one of the most handsomest guys she'd ever seen...on live television. As Maxwell entered her, the feelings began to arise. The most abundant feelings of all; pleasure, pain, etc, they were quickly overshadowed by an anxiety (NOT RIGHT NOW, PLEASE, I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING, I DON'T WANNA FEEL LIKE THIS WHEN I HAVE SOMEONE INSIDE OF ME, THANK YOU). It wasn't quite that overpowering, but it sure as hell killed the mood for her. Having sex in front of millions does that.
She didn't know what Maxwell was feeling, as he dominated the scene, because she wasn't about to ask. She wanted to look like she was thoroughly enjoying it, so she wrapped her legs around him tightly. It was all about her containing that little bit of dominance, even though the guy obviously had this alpha complex about him so. He was always in control of every situation, right? Well, that was th...
CREAK!
Oh what the FUCK?
Standing at the doorway was a girl. She was looking at the two in coitus, and engaged in some witty comment of a kind.
The anxiety and nervousness encompassing Clio was gone in a blaze of rage. Who the FUCK did she think she was, waltzing in on two of the most dangerous people on the island and making a COMMENT about it? No, no she wasn't going to get away with that, no siree.
Not wasting any time, Clio grabbed her gun, her good old James Bond gun. Max seemed to have the same idea, and picked up one of his guns as well. The two wasted no time in pumping the figure in the doorway full of lead.
As soon as she fell, there was a brief pause, like the girl was still alive and the two killers were simply stuck there, awkwardly staring at the girl who was sucking all the attention away. Clio put her gun back down and grabbed the back of Max's hair, bringing his head down to her. They nearly touched at the lips as Clio began to speak.
"Now. Where were we, Max?" Clio grinned, and kissed Max roughly, before throwing herself back onto the bed.
Act 2's gonna have to be much better than the first.
She didn't know what Maxwell was feeling, as he dominated the scene, because she wasn't about to ask. She wanted to look like she was thoroughly enjoying it, so she wrapped her legs around him tightly. It was all about her containing that little bit of dominance, even though the guy obviously had this alpha complex about him so. He was always in control of every situation, right? Well, that was th...
CREAK!
Oh what the FUCK?
Standing at the doorway was a girl. She was looking at the two in coitus, and engaged in some witty comment of a kind.
The anxiety and nervousness encompassing Clio was gone in a blaze of rage. Who the FUCK did she think she was, waltzing in on two of the most dangerous people on the island and making a COMMENT about it? No, no she wasn't going to get away with that, no siree.
Not wasting any time, Clio grabbed her gun, her good old James Bond gun. Max seemed to have the same idea, and picked up one of his guns as well. The two wasted no time in pumping the figure in the doorway full of lead.
As soon as she fell, there was a brief pause, like the girl was still alive and the two killers were simply stuck there, awkwardly staring at the girl who was sucking all the attention away. Clio put her gun back down and grabbed the back of Max's hair, bringing his head down to her. They nearly touched at the lips as Clio began to speak.
"Now. Where were we, Max?" Clio grinned, and kissed Max roughly, before throwing herself back onto the bed.
Act 2's gonna have to be much better than the first.
For what seemed to Maxwell like an eternity, the two paused as Marybeth fell to the ground with a heavy thud, her body covered in several bullet-wounds. For most people, the sight alone would have been enough to shock them to the core. Enough to drive them to madness to think that they could have been able to cause such a thing to happen to someone...
As usual though, Maxwell didn't regret what he'd done for a second. If anything, the familiar adrenaline rush from his earlier killings was beginning to resurface. Which, mixed with his amorous feelings towards Clio, served only to fuel his lust rather then stop it dead in its tracks. All Maxwell could think about now was whether or not they should still continue with their lovemaking... She better damn well be up for it. Because my god do I feel alive right now! I feel as if I could take on the entire island with my bare HANDS!
Sure enough, it didn't take long for Clio to pull his face to hers and utter a quick word before pressing her lips against his as they resumed their passionate lovemaking. And Maxwell, already in a state of pure unadulterated lust, returned the kiss with a passion unlike anything he'd ever experienced before in his life. From there one, his once sensual and passionate movements had become more primal and animalistic as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. He was on complete autopilot, all the subtly and care from earlier completely absent as he practically ravaged the girl underneath her with all the energy he could muster. It was almost as if Marybeth's death had temporarily released a more primeval part of Maxwell, his method more similar to that of an animal then that of a human. It was beyond being passionate, or even simple lust. It was something much deeper then that which was driving him at that moment, something not even he fully understood at that moment in time... And he was loving every second of it.
Nevertheless, it was only a matter of time before the climax had been reached, and all the strength that gone into their lovemaking faded away into nothingness. They continued making out for a while afterwords, their tongues toying with one another as they lay together in a tight embrace. But eventually, after being well worn out from such an adrenaline fuelled lovemaking session, the two lovers slowly but surely drifted into unconsciousness in one another's arms...
That... Was...... Magnificient.........
...........................
............
....
.
Beep.
"Evening children... my aren't we having a busy day? It seems that one of your number has no regard for the rest of you...
Maxwell slowly opened his eyes as he was rudely awoken from his slumber by the announcement, listening on with curiosity as Danya informed the island of Liz's continued acts of rebellion. Her again? Hasn't somebody stuck a knife in her back yet? Christ, can't believe I got woken up for THAT...
It didn't take long for Danya to blow another student's collar. Lucy something-or-other this time. Not that he cared in the slightest... Whilst Danya seemed to claim that these were random killings, the young Brit highly suspected that they were careful to only detonate the collars of those who in hindsight wouldn't make that much of an impact of the game. Maxwell had killed six... No, seven people by this point already. Killing him in such an anticlimactic fashion would be too much of a waste.
Even so, hearing that an established killer like Alex Rasputin had his collar blown as well didn't fill him with much hope.
Once the announcement had ended, the young killer stretched his arms and yawned loudly. Announcement or not, he couldn't deny just how much of a difference it had been for him to be able to sleep on a comfortable bed like this. Well, relatively comfortable anyway. Still, a mattress is a mattress after all. Can't really complain about that in the end. Its a shame once I leave here that I'll have to resort to sleeping out in the open again. Oh well, at least I can stay here a while longer with Clio for compa......
......Hang on, where is she?
For a brief second, Maxwell was unsure of her whereabouts. The last thing he remembered was the two of them falling asleep in each other's arms, only now she seemed to not be in bed anymore. Nevertheless, all it took to find her was Maxwell quickly turning his head towards the door to find her redressing herself a couple of feet away from him.The young killer couldn't help but smile in relief. It would have been awfully rude of her to walk out on him like that...
"Morning... Or, evening I guess." he said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. She turned to him and began talking, saying something along the lines of having to leave in a hurry. A pity, but it wasn't at if he could really blame her for wanting to go. After all, they had wasted possibly an entire day's worth of hunting. Well, wasted was probably not the right definition. Maxwell for one certainly didn't regret what they had done mere hours ago... Still, so many to kill, so little time....
"Oh well, I suppose it was nice whilst it lasted... You know, I actually considered asking if we could team-up earlier, take on the entire island Bonnie and Clyde style. But, now that I think about it, that's probably not a terribly bright idea in the long run..."
As he spoke, the young Brit grabbed his clothes and began to redress himself also, starting with his underwear.
"Still, I have to say, last night was simply amazing. Possibly the most fun I've had on this island since the time I had this fight with some bastard who assumed he could play the hero and take me on in hand-to-hand combat. Heh, I taught him some good manners whilst I was at it... God, it was so satisfying to extinguish that cunt's life with my own bare hands."
Maxwell recalled the event with the same nostalgic feeling that someone would remember and old fishing trip, or a particularly good game of bowling. By this point, he had just refastened his belt on and stood up, dressed only from the waste down. He walked slowly around the bed until he had made it to his shirt and jacked, which as it happened were lying right next to his trusty TEC-9. He picked up the weapon, inspecting it in his hands. The memories he'd had with the weapon. The people he'd killed using it. The people he'd yet to finish off with it... It was a crying shame that he was down to his last magazine.
"You know, its funny... I was just thinking about which was more fun, making love or killing people. And you know what, I think murder might just be a little more satisfying. I mean, not in a sexual way of course. There's just something about the feeling of taking another man's life that's truly incomparable, you know? All the adrenaline, the excitement. The thrill of the hunt so to speak... Honestly, it makes me wonder why so many people seem to complain about it all the time. I've heard of there being players in past games who've spent half the time killing people, and the other half whining about killing said people. Some of them even going as far as taking their own life! Pathetic... Truly, pathetic... I'm glad you decided not to go down that route in the end. I honestly have no respect for people who value their lives so little that they'd actually go as far as wasting it. And besides... Deep down, I think all those angst-ridden killers out there with paper thin excuses like 'I did what I had to do' love it just as much as I do. The only difference is that they're too cowardly to admit it..."
He smiled, and slowly turned his head to Clio.
"I, on the other hand, am not..."
There was a moment of silence between them, as the two of them just stood there looking each other in the eyes. Hmm, I wonder what's going on in that disturbed head of her's? Who knows... Anyway, best to break the silence now.
"But anyway, I ought to get dressed. Those simians waiting for me out there aren't going to kill themselves now, are they?"
Well, not all of them anyway...
He quickly went about retrieving his clothing, putting his black shirt on along with his favourite maroon tie. He ignored the corpse of Marybeth as if it wasn't even there, not even acknowledging the smell. As he reached out for his jacket, he spotted the unopened wine bottle he had brought up earlier. Not wishing to put it to waste, he opened it and began filling his empty water bottles with the red liquid. By the time he'd filled them up, the bottle was still half full. Well, I suppose I COULD throw it away... But what kind of gentleman would I be if I did something like that?
On that note, the young Brit screwed the top back onto the bottle and threw his jacket over his shoulder as he walked up to Clio with the bottle in his hand.
"I, uh, suppose you can have this. Must taste a lot better then a bottle of warm water..."
She took the bottle from him, holding it in her hands. The two stood there for a moment, close to one another, staring into each other's eyes. There was a stray strand of hair in Clio's eye again, a hair which Maxwell gently moved with his hand. There was a warm smile on his face, an almost genuine one this time.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope this will be the last time we see each other. It'd be a shame after all we've done for it to end in bloodshed."
For once, Maxwell was actually be quite honest. Despite having only just met her, he'd actually grown quite attached to the peculiar girl. Sure, she was a psychopath on the edge of madness, but nevertheless there was something about her which Maxwell couldn't help but admire. She had sense of confidence about her which Maxwell greatly respected. She was a bit smug, yes, but then again so was he. That and the fact that they had been deeply intimate with one another earlier led Maxwell to believe that he might have become more attached to her then he actually realised.
"...Although, I suppose one last kiss couldn't hurt?"
Sure enough, within seconds moved in closer as he leaned over and their lips touched once more. This kiss however, was different from the others. There was something more genuine about the feelings in it, something more real...
Something more loving.
...No.
After what felt like an eternity had passed, Maxwell broke away from the kiss, looking away from Clio's eyes.
I'm can't believe I've been such an idiot. I've grown soft. I've dropped my guard. I've fallen for the oldest trip-up in the book... I've actually grown attached to her. I've begun to actually CARE about this borderline lunatic. Hell, I might even love her, if that's what this feeling is... Damnit Maxwell! You had to go ahead and fall for a fellow player, didn't you? How're you going to up your game if you're concerned about the welfare of someone whose for all intents and purposes the enemy! She's a psychopath, a complete nutcase! She's nothing to you. NOTHING. Just leave now, and forget this ever happened. You can't let this drag you down... The pragmatic thing would be to kill her now and get it over with.
But you can't do that, can you?
Damnit......
After a deep sigh, the young Brit moved away from Clio and put his jacket on, throwing his bag over his shoulder and lifting his gun up high. After one last quick lookabout the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he made his way for the door and left. But not before turning back one last time and saying:
"...Goodbye, Clio Gabriella."
And with that, he was gone.
It wasn't until an hour or so later, after he had left the mansion far behind him, that he realised that something was missing.
Damnit, my gun! The one I'd sto... Liberated from Mr Eyeless. Its gone! Shit, where did I last see it. Clio took it out of my pocked and place it on the bedside table, I picked it up later when Little Miss Cockblock entered the room and I finished it off. I must have left it on the table... But no, I checked that damn table thoroughly. Which must mean...
......
.....Oh, clever girl.
He couldn't help but grin to himself. In hindsight, the gun wasn't that much of a loss. He only really needed one pistol anyway. Besides, he could use the extra magazine for his 'original' pistol anyway.
Anyhow, enough wasting time. They must all be missing me out there... No point in keeping them waiting, eh?
And so, with a smooth smile on his face, he cocked the TEC-9 and carried on with his trek.
Guess what world? Maxwell Lombardi is back in town...
((Maxwell Lombardi continued in Breaking Down the Wall))
As usual though, Maxwell didn't regret what he'd done for a second. If anything, the familiar adrenaline rush from his earlier killings was beginning to resurface. Which, mixed with his amorous feelings towards Clio, served only to fuel his lust rather then stop it dead in its tracks. All Maxwell could think about now was whether or not they should still continue with their lovemaking... She better damn well be up for it. Because my god do I feel alive right now! I feel as if I could take on the entire island with my bare HANDS!
Sure enough, it didn't take long for Clio to pull his face to hers and utter a quick word before pressing her lips against his as they resumed their passionate lovemaking. And Maxwell, already in a state of pure unadulterated lust, returned the kiss with a passion unlike anything he'd ever experienced before in his life. From there one, his once sensual and passionate movements had become more primal and animalistic as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. He was on complete autopilot, all the subtly and care from earlier completely absent as he practically ravaged the girl underneath her with all the energy he could muster. It was almost as if Marybeth's death had temporarily released a more primeval part of Maxwell, his method more similar to that of an animal then that of a human. It was beyond being passionate, or even simple lust. It was something much deeper then that which was driving him at that moment, something not even he fully understood at that moment in time... And he was loving every second of it.
Nevertheless, it was only a matter of time before the climax had been reached, and all the strength that gone into their lovemaking faded away into nothingness. They continued making out for a while afterwords, their tongues toying with one another as they lay together in a tight embrace. But eventually, after being well worn out from such an adrenaline fuelled lovemaking session, the two lovers slowly but surely drifted into unconsciousness in one another's arms...
That... Was...... Magnificient.........
...........................
............
....
.
Beep.
"Evening children... my aren't we having a busy day? It seems that one of your number has no regard for the rest of you...
Maxwell slowly opened his eyes as he was rudely awoken from his slumber by the announcement, listening on with curiosity as Danya informed the island of Liz's continued acts of rebellion. Her again? Hasn't somebody stuck a knife in her back yet? Christ, can't believe I got woken up for THAT...
It didn't take long for Danya to blow another student's collar. Lucy something-or-other this time. Not that he cared in the slightest... Whilst Danya seemed to claim that these were random killings, the young Brit highly suspected that they were careful to only detonate the collars of those who in hindsight wouldn't make that much of an impact of the game. Maxwell had killed six... No, seven people by this point already. Killing him in such an anticlimactic fashion would be too much of a waste.
Even so, hearing that an established killer like Alex Rasputin had his collar blown as well didn't fill him with much hope.
Once the announcement had ended, the young killer stretched his arms and yawned loudly. Announcement or not, he couldn't deny just how much of a difference it had been for him to be able to sleep on a comfortable bed like this. Well, relatively comfortable anyway. Still, a mattress is a mattress after all. Can't really complain about that in the end. Its a shame once I leave here that I'll have to resort to sleeping out in the open again. Oh well, at least I can stay here a while longer with Clio for compa......
......Hang on, where is she?
For a brief second, Maxwell was unsure of her whereabouts. The last thing he remembered was the two of them falling asleep in each other's arms, only now she seemed to not be in bed anymore. Nevertheless, all it took to find her was Maxwell quickly turning his head towards the door to find her redressing herself a couple of feet away from him.The young killer couldn't help but smile in relief. It would have been awfully rude of her to walk out on him like that...
"Morning... Or, evening I guess." he said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. She turned to him and began talking, saying something along the lines of having to leave in a hurry. A pity, but it wasn't at if he could really blame her for wanting to go. After all, they had wasted possibly an entire day's worth of hunting. Well, wasted was probably not the right definition. Maxwell for one certainly didn't regret what they had done mere hours ago... Still, so many to kill, so little time....
"Oh well, I suppose it was nice whilst it lasted... You know, I actually considered asking if we could team-up earlier, take on the entire island Bonnie and Clyde style. But, now that I think about it, that's probably not a terribly bright idea in the long run..."
As he spoke, the young Brit grabbed his clothes and began to redress himself also, starting with his underwear.
"Still, I have to say, last night was simply amazing. Possibly the most fun I've had on this island since the time I had this fight with some bastard who assumed he could play the hero and take me on in hand-to-hand combat. Heh, I taught him some good manners whilst I was at it... God, it was so satisfying to extinguish that cunt's life with my own bare hands."
Maxwell recalled the event with the same nostalgic feeling that someone would remember and old fishing trip, or a particularly good game of bowling. By this point, he had just refastened his belt on and stood up, dressed only from the waste down. He walked slowly around the bed until he had made it to his shirt and jacked, which as it happened were lying right next to his trusty TEC-9. He picked up the weapon, inspecting it in his hands. The memories he'd had with the weapon. The people he'd killed using it. The people he'd yet to finish off with it... It was a crying shame that he was down to his last magazine.
"You know, its funny... I was just thinking about which was more fun, making love or killing people. And you know what, I think murder might just be a little more satisfying. I mean, not in a sexual way of course. There's just something about the feeling of taking another man's life that's truly incomparable, you know? All the adrenaline, the excitement. The thrill of the hunt so to speak... Honestly, it makes me wonder why so many people seem to complain about it all the time. I've heard of there being players in past games who've spent half the time killing people, and the other half whining about killing said people. Some of them even going as far as taking their own life! Pathetic... Truly, pathetic... I'm glad you decided not to go down that route in the end. I honestly have no respect for people who value their lives so little that they'd actually go as far as wasting it. And besides... Deep down, I think all those angst-ridden killers out there with paper thin excuses like 'I did what I had to do' love it just as much as I do. The only difference is that they're too cowardly to admit it..."
He smiled, and slowly turned his head to Clio.
"I, on the other hand, am not..."
There was a moment of silence between them, as the two of them just stood there looking each other in the eyes. Hmm, I wonder what's going on in that disturbed head of her's? Who knows... Anyway, best to break the silence now.
"But anyway, I ought to get dressed. Those simians waiting for me out there aren't going to kill themselves now, are they?"
Well, not all of them anyway...
He quickly went about retrieving his clothing, putting his black shirt on along with his favourite maroon tie. He ignored the corpse of Marybeth as if it wasn't even there, not even acknowledging the smell. As he reached out for his jacket, he spotted the unopened wine bottle he had brought up earlier. Not wishing to put it to waste, he opened it and began filling his empty water bottles with the red liquid. By the time he'd filled them up, the bottle was still half full. Well, I suppose I COULD throw it away... But what kind of gentleman would I be if I did something like that?
On that note, the young Brit screwed the top back onto the bottle and threw his jacket over his shoulder as he walked up to Clio with the bottle in his hand.
"I, uh, suppose you can have this. Must taste a lot better then a bottle of warm water..."
She took the bottle from him, holding it in her hands. The two stood there for a moment, close to one another, staring into each other's eyes. There was a stray strand of hair in Clio's eye again, a hair which Maxwell gently moved with his hand. There was a warm smile on his face, an almost genuine one this time.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope this will be the last time we see each other. It'd be a shame after all we've done for it to end in bloodshed."
For once, Maxwell was actually be quite honest. Despite having only just met her, he'd actually grown quite attached to the peculiar girl. Sure, she was a psychopath on the edge of madness, but nevertheless there was something about her which Maxwell couldn't help but admire. She had sense of confidence about her which Maxwell greatly respected. She was a bit smug, yes, but then again so was he. That and the fact that they had been deeply intimate with one another earlier led Maxwell to believe that he might have become more attached to her then he actually realised.
"...Although, I suppose one last kiss couldn't hurt?"
Sure enough, within seconds moved in closer as he leaned over and their lips touched once more. This kiss however, was different from the others. There was something more genuine about the feelings in it, something more real...
Something more loving.
...No.
After what felt like an eternity had passed, Maxwell broke away from the kiss, looking away from Clio's eyes.
I'm can't believe I've been such an idiot. I've grown soft. I've dropped my guard. I've fallen for the oldest trip-up in the book... I've actually grown attached to her. I've begun to actually CARE about this borderline lunatic. Hell, I might even love her, if that's what this feeling is... Damnit Maxwell! You had to go ahead and fall for a fellow player, didn't you? How're you going to up your game if you're concerned about the welfare of someone whose for all intents and purposes the enemy! She's a psychopath, a complete nutcase! She's nothing to you. NOTHING. Just leave now, and forget this ever happened. You can't let this drag you down... The pragmatic thing would be to kill her now and get it over with.
But you can't do that, can you?
Damnit......
After a deep sigh, the young Brit moved away from Clio and put his jacket on, throwing his bag over his shoulder and lifting his gun up high. After one last quick lookabout the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he made his way for the door and left. But not before turning back one last time and saying:
"...Goodbye, Clio Gabriella."
And with that, he was gone.
It wasn't until an hour or so later, after he had left the mansion far behind him, that he realised that something was missing.
Damnit, my gun! The one I'd sto... Liberated from Mr Eyeless. Its gone! Shit, where did I last see it. Clio took it out of my pocked and place it on the bedside table, I picked it up later when Little Miss Cockblock entered the room and I finished it off. I must have left it on the table... But no, I checked that damn table thoroughly. Which must mean...
......
.....Oh, clever girl.
He couldn't help but grin to himself. In hindsight, the gun wasn't that much of a loss. He only really needed one pistol anyway. Besides, he could use the extra magazine for his 'original' pistol anyway.
Anyhow, enough wasting time. They must all be missing me out there... No point in keeping them waiting, eh?
And so, with a smooth smile on his face, he cocked the TEC-9 and carried on with his trek.
Guess what world? Maxwell Lombardi is back in town...
((Maxwell Lombardi continued in Breaking Down the Wall))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fiori. 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.
((Forgive for how choppy or incoherent the post may seem, I'm just trying to get Clio moving along so I don't make this death way more overdue than it already it, and it is 5 in the morning here...))
Squinting through the darkness, semi-darkness, whatever it wanted to be called, Clio realised she was awake again. Waking up was hard to do, and having to place yourself in that brief moment when you're still asleep was even harder. Senses overclocked. They registered everything. Mansion, sweat, skin, silence, and...that smell of body odor and fluids that only lingered after sex.
...Oh. Right.
Her and Maxwell. That happened for real. It wasn't just some neurotic fans dream of a couple coming true, it was real. She and him actually had sex.
Sex in front of millions of people.
...
...
...this does not bode well for my reputation as a cold killer, now does it?
What happened just then with Maxwell, as she tried her best to wake up fully in his arms, was something that should have stuck to fiction. If this were a story, it was bound to happen. But this wasn't just a story, it was real, a woman's life. Hell, not even a woman, a girl. It's one of those decisions you can't really make on the fly like that, just deciding to have sex with someone who had the opportunity to kill you at any given moment.
Well, that was it, really. It was only in those places that the consequences really mattered. When it was a purely innocent victim that was in her place, not the calculated mind of a murderess. And no, she didn't just decide to have sex with him on the fly. It was all about proving something to herself, just proving that she...she wasn't just another female killer. She wasn't a Mariavel, a Clemence, or Melina. She was attractive, like everyone of those before her, but what lay underneath that beautiful skin was...
...Jesus, what am I going on about? I sound like a Shakespeare monologue, that's just stupid.
So the facts had to be set straight. The only reason she had sex with him was because a) she was in that mood and b) she just wanted to prove she still had it in her to make men fall for her. There wasn't any subtextual meaning behind that crap, no ulterior motives, just a plain old fuck that would mean nothing tomorrow. Not to her at least, she didn't know what he was thinking while the Brit boy slept.
Her eyes started to blink in rapid succession, as she tried to fully wake up. The darkness fell to the wayside and gave way to some real light, some semi-darkness. The two naked teenagers in the mansion bed became one naked teenager in a mansion bed as Clio slipped out of his arms and crept over to her bag.
In her hands were two things. One was her good old trusty James Bond gun, the other was Maxwell's own gun. Thing was, she knew that no matter how much fun she had, fun was no substitute for the game. It was like a reality show; the best players always knew that there was no downtime, and made sure that they could always be a step above the rest of the pack. So taking a weapon from him, something she knew for a fact that he had in plenty, was just a necessary action for her own advantage.
Of course, the moment she got to her bag, Danya decided to ruin her fun.
It was open, and that was what made it easy. They slipped out of her hands and tumbled into the cramped space of her bag and turned invisible. Instead of standing there, looking mightily suspicious, she instead snapped her hands down towards her bag of clothes and whipped out a fresh new set of clothing. She got a new pair of underwear and bra, a knee-high black skirt, and a shoulder-less purple top that her mother had a fit over. Oh dear Maria, the woman who called herself her mother, what a fit she must be having now. Her own daughter, the one she loved, a psycho, a slut, and a killer all at once! Carrying on the family name would be such an effort...
She didn't need to look to the probably-conscious Maxwell to know that Danya's second announcement for the evening was a one-way ticket from Dreamland to anyone wearing their sensible shoes. So she didn't rush herself, make it look too suspicious. Clio managed to get her panties on before the continuous mumbling of an overweight sadist was drowned out momentarily by the one, the only.
Her face was planted with a smile, and she spun around to face Maxwell, at the same time putting on her new bra.
"I was just about to head off, probably pick off someone unlucky to stay around here. I was never one to stick around and cuddle after sex. You didn't look like one either."
This rapid-fire explanation wasn't that forced, since all she had to do was kinda neglect the fact that she was robbing his unconscious belongings while he lay post-coitus. Maybe she forgot about it. He'd figure it out sooner or later, the former not really preferable in this situation.
And yes, she was thinking the same thing as he was. There was no way in hell they were teaming up to work off some crime-commiting duo angle, it'd never work. So many flaws in that plan, a plan that hadn't even been drawn up yet.
Not that she contemplated it while she got her skirt on. What she was contemplating was something along the lines of "does this guy ever stop thinking about killing?" The moments following his compliment to her...prowess...he started talking about one of his kills. He wasn't trying to impress her again, was he? There wasn't any need for that right now, since she'd already seduced him into bed, so what was the point of going on about killing?
...could he actually be enjoying this?
"You know, its funny... I was just thinking about which was more fun, making love or killing people. And you know what, I think murder might just be a little more satisfying."
Yep, he was definitely enjoying this.
If he was that far gone already, she'd give him about...4-5 days, tops? There was no way someone as crazy as him was making it to the end in one piece. If you enjoyed killing as much as he did, you were lost no matter how far you made it. Her, on the other hand, killed because it had to be done. She was a heartless she-devil, but she wasn't a psychotic she-devil. There was no thrill, no perverse sexual lust out of killing people.
Maybe that was why it would never have worked out in the long run. They were just too different a player, when it came down to it.
But she didn't say this to him, because while they were both killers, he was the only armed one right there. She mouthed off to him, any of that cliched little "You're mad" stuff and she was a goner. She stayed silent, smiling, and the events following flashed by like wildfire.
She got some good wine.
She got a good promise.
She got one last tender kiss.
And then he was out of her life forever.
Clio slipped her top on, and giggled. Finally, it was her mansion again.
Her hands ventured back into that bag of hers, and pulled out her newest weapon. It was a gun, a nice one. She didn't take any ammo with it, so whatever was left inside of it was what was left for good. Could have only been a few bullets, compared to the 30 or so left with her gun, but she still had a pretty good gun.
A slight rumbling feeling erupted in her stomach, and Clio resisted the urge to throw up. Five days of nothing but bread and crackers waged war on the immune system, especially where nutrients were concerned. Still, it's not like she had anything else to eat with her, she'd only taken enough of Danya's rations to feed an army. It was all starch, and wheat, and whatever else, and hot damn was it unappetising after a few days.
Rather than just leave right away, or merely accept the fact that she wasn't gonna get a nice piece of fruit out of midair, Clio looked around at the doorway of the room, the source of one of the more repugnant smells in her lifetime. A rotting body was toxic fumes eating away at...stuff, she didn't care at the moment when she had a goal in mind.
Clio's hands grasped around the girl's pockets, her pants, everywhere she could find.
But no.
This girl
Had not
one
itty
bitty
little
piece of food.
It would have made more sense to just sigh and give up, but instead, Clio grunted loudly, and threw a kick at the waist of the body. Fucking bitch didn't even have the decency to burst in unannounced with some proper food on her.
What the hell, I don't need some dead body to find food. There's probably something I can eat out there, in the forests. Fruit, flower, berry, anything's possible.
A few minutes later, she was set, like a little girl about to go on a hunting trip. Walking out of the room, not even bothering to dodge stepping on the dead girl's face (Clio heard a loud crack, and assumed her nose broke), she wasn't just a hunter. She was a predator, about to go after some of the best meat on the island.
Two large, open, mansion doors flew open in the night sky, and Clio Gabriella strode out, ready to carve her name back into the minds of every student out there.
((The Final Act))
[[Thread Closed]]
Squinting through the darkness, semi-darkness, whatever it wanted to be called, Clio realised she was awake again. Waking up was hard to do, and having to place yourself in that brief moment when you're still asleep was even harder. Senses overclocked. They registered everything. Mansion, sweat, skin, silence, and...that smell of body odor and fluids that only lingered after sex.
...Oh. Right.
Her and Maxwell. That happened for real. It wasn't just some neurotic fans dream of a couple coming true, it was real. She and him actually had sex.
Sex in front of millions of people.
...
...
...this does not bode well for my reputation as a cold killer, now does it?
What happened just then with Maxwell, as she tried her best to wake up fully in his arms, was something that should have stuck to fiction. If this were a story, it was bound to happen. But this wasn't just a story, it was real, a woman's life. Hell, not even a woman, a girl. It's one of those decisions you can't really make on the fly like that, just deciding to have sex with someone who had the opportunity to kill you at any given moment.
Well, that was it, really. It was only in those places that the consequences really mattered. When it was a purely innocent victim that was in her place, not the calculated mind of a murderess. And no, she didn't just decide to have sex with him on the fly. It was all about proving something to herself, just proving that she...she wasn't just another female killer. She wasn't a Mariavel, a Clemence, or Melina. She was attractive, like everyone of those before her, but what lay underneath that beautiful skin was...
...Jesus, what am I going on about? I sound like a Shakespeare monologue, that's just stupid.
So the facts had to be set straight. The only reason she had sex with him was because a) she was in that mood and b) she just wanted to prove she still had it in her to make men fall for her. There wasn't any subtextual meaning behind that crap, no ulterior motives, just a plain old fuck that would mean nothing tomorrow. Not to her at least, she didn't know what he was thinking while the Brit boy slept.
Her eyes started to blink in rapid succession, as she tried to fully wake up. The darkness fell to the wayside and gave way to some real light, some semi-darkness. The two naked teenagers in the mansion bed became one naked teenager in a mansion bed as Clio slipped out of his arms and crept over to her bag.
In her hands were two things. One was her good old trusty James Bond gun, the other was Maxwell's own gun. Thing was, she knew that no matter how much fun she had, fun was no substitute for the game. It was like a reality show; the best players always knew that there was no downtime, and made sure that they could always be a step above the rest of the pack. So taking a weapon from him, something she knew for a fact that he had in plenty, was just a necessary action for her own advantage.
Of course, the moment she got to her bag, Danya decided to ruin her fun.
It was open, and that was what made it easy. They slipped out of her hands and tumbled into the cramped space of her bag and turned invisible. Instead of standing there, looking mightily suspicious, she instead snapped her hands down towards her bag of clothes and whipped out a fresh new set of clothing. She got a new pair of underwear and bra, a knee-high black skirt, and a shoulder-less purple top that her mother had a fit over. Oh dear Maria, the woman who called herself her mother, what a fit she must be having now. Her own daughter, the one she loved, a psycho, a slut, and a killer all at once! Carrying on the family name would be such an effort...
She didn't need to look to the probably-conscious Maxwell to know that Danya's second announcement for the evening was a one-way ticket from Dreamland to anyone wearing their sensible shoes. So she didn't rush herself, make it look too suspicious. Clio managed to get her panties on before the continuous mumbling of an overweight sadist was drowned out momentarily by the one, the only.
Her face was planted with a smile, and she spun around to face Maxwell, at the same time putting on her new bra.
"I was just about to head off, probably pick off someone unlucky to stay around here. I was never one to stick around and cuddle after sex. You didn't look like one either."
This rapid-fire explanation wasn't that forced, since all she had to do was kinda neglect the fact that she was robbing his unconscious belongings while he lay post-coitus. Maybe she forgot about it. He'd figure it out sooner or later, the former not really preferable in this situation.
And yes, she was thinking the same thing as he was. There was no way in hell they were teaming up to work off some crime-commiting duo angle, it'd never work. So many flaws in that plan, a plan that hadn't even been drawn up yet.
Not that she contemplated it while she got her skirt on. What she was contemplating was something along the lines of "does this guy ever stop thinking about killing?" The moments following his compliment to her...prowess...he started talking about one of his kills. He wasn't trying to impress her again, was he? There wasn't any need for that right now, since she'd already seduced him into bed, so what was the point of going on about killing?
...could he actually be enjoying this?
"You know, its funny... I was just thinking about which was more fun, making love or killing people. And you know what, I think murder might just be a little more satisfying."
Yep, he was definitely enjoying this.
If he was that far gone already, she'd give him about...4-5 days, tops? There was no way someone as crazy as him was making it to the end in one piece. If you enjoyed killing as much as he did, you were lost no matter how far you made it. Her, on the other hand, killed because it had to be done. She was a heartless she-devil, but she wasn't a psychotic she-devil. There was no thrill, no perverse sexual lust out of killing people.
Maybe that was why it would never have worked out in the long run. They were just too different a player, when it came down to it.
But she didn't say this to him, because while they were both killers, he was the only armed one right there. She mouthed off to him, any of that cliched little "You're mad" stuff and she was a goner. She stayed silent, smiling, and the events following flashed by like wildfire.
She got some good wine.
She got a good promise.
She got one last tender kiss.
And then he was out of her life forever.
Clio slipped her top on, and giggled. Finally, it was her mansion again.
Her hands ventured back into that bag of hers, and pulled out her newest weapon. It was a gun, a nice one. She didn't take any ammo with it, so whatever was left inside of it was what was left for good. Could have only been a few bullets, compared to the 30 or so left with her gun, but she still had a pretty good gun.
A slight rumbling feeling erupted in her stomach, and Clio resisted the urge to throw up. Five days of nothing but bread and crackers waged war on the immune system, especially where nutrients were concerned. Still, it's not like she had anything else to eat with her, she'd only taken enough of Danya's rations to feed an army. It was all starch, and wheat, and whatever else, and hot damn was it unappetising after a few days.
Rather than just leave right away, or merely accept the fact that she wasn't gonna get a nice piece of fruit out of midair, Clio looked around at the doorway of the room, the source of one of the more repugnant smells in her lifetime. A rotting body was toxic fumes eating away at...stuff, she didn't care at the moment when she had a goal in mind.
Clio's hands grasped around the girl's pockets, her pants, everywhere she could find.
But no.
This girl
Had not
one
itty
bitty
little
piece of food.
It would have made more sense to just sigh and give up, but instead, Clio grunted loudly, and threw a kick at the waist of the body. Fucking bitch didn't even have the decency to burst in unannounced with some proper food on her.
What the hell, I don't need some dead body to find food. There's probably something I can eat out there, in the forests. Fruit, flower, berry, anything's possible.
A few minutes later, she was set, like a little girl about to go on a hunting trip. Walking out of the room, not even bothering to dodge stepping on the dead girl's face (Clio heard a loud crack, and assumed her nose broke), she wasn't just a hunter. She was a predator, about to go after some of the best meat on the island.
Two large, open, mansion doors flew open in the night sky, and Clio Gabriella strode out, ready to carve her name back into the minds of every student out there.
((The Final Act))
[[Thread Closed]]