((Charles Richar Dawson continued from instinctalgorithm))
Charles made it to the bottom of the mountain as Danya's voice boomed out of the speakers. He hoped that he lost his pursuer, but he doubted it.
A body was lying in the open, face-up. "So many lives lost, such a waste...." He said. "Which name was his, do you think...?" He looked back at his friend, "Maddy, you okay?"
Fight or Flight
Private- Morning of Day 3
-
xylophonefairy†
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:55 am
((Maddy Stone continued from instinctalgorithm))
Maddy bent forwards to try and catch her breath. The last bit of the run had been accompanied by a soundtrack of jeers and death counts. This time she listened, becoming aware that it was better to know who your enemies were than to pretend that you just didn't have any. Not that she suspected any of them had a specific reason to murder her, but they could turn quickly. The evidence of that was probably still running down the hill right behind them.
She didn't even notice the body until Charles pointed him out. Fighting back an urge to throw up, she moved closer to them, looked at the overweight specimen in front of them. He had a name, he probably had parents and siblings and close friends, and yet here they were, neither of them knowing anything about him. Maddy shook her head, guilt burning in her stomach. Why hadn't she socialised more? Gotten to know more people. At least learnt all their names.
"I don't know," she said, quietly. "I never spoke to him," and now you never will...
Was she okay? That was a question and a half. She felt strange, apathetic, like she didn't care, and yet the demise of someone she didn't know was affecting her more than she would have thought it could. Her first dead body. Somehow she'd made it to the third day (and it really was 'day' now, the sky was lightening with the sunrise) skimming past death, brushing against it's curtains without ever seeing what was inside. But somebody had opened them a crack. And she hated that.
"Where are we, anyway?" Maddy said, looking around the structure that they had somehow ended up in. She wondered if Charles had been aiming for this place or if it was fluke.
Maddy bent forwards to try and catch her breath. The last bit of the run had been accompanied by a soundtrack of jeers and death counts. This time she listened, becoming aware that it was better to know who your enemies were than to pretend that you just didn't have any. Not that she suspected any of them had a specific reason to murder her, but they could turn quickly. The evidence of that was probably still running down the hill right behind them.
She didn't even notice the body until Charles pointed him out. Fighting back an urge to throw up, she moved closer to them, looked at the overweight specimen in front of them. He had a name, he probably had parents and siblings and close friends, and yet here they were, neither of them knowing anything about him. Maddy shook her head, guilt burning in her stomach. Why hadn't she socialised more? Gotten to know more people. At least learnt all their names.
"I don't know," she said, quietly. "I never spoke to him," and now you never will...
Was she okay? That was a question and a half. She felt strange, apathetic, like she didn't care, and yet the demise of someone she didn't know was affecting her more than she would have thought it could. Her first dead body. Somehow she'd made it to the third day (and it really was 'day' now, the sky was lightening with the sunrise) skimming past death, brushing against it's curtains without ever seeing what was inside. But somebody had opened them a crack. And she hated that.
"Where are we, anyway?" Maddy said, looking around the structure that they had somehow ended up in. She wondered if Charles had been aiming for this place or if it was fluke.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler xylophonefairy. 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.
(Naoko Raidon continued from No Turning Back)
If he was so determined not to be a killer, he should have put the gun down.
Some feeble impulse within Raiodn--some last faint hope that he was not a murderer, that he was simply a kid propelled into extreme circumstances who reacted in an understandably extreme fashion--kept insisting that the death of Scott McGregor was an accident. That they had been in a tense situation and Raidon, the edge of mercy, had been about to lower his gun when the other boy made a sudden move.
But Raidon refused to listen. He knew damn well how easy it would have been to put that gun down. He had drawn the gun on Scott with every intention of eliminating Scott McGregor, even if...
Even if he hated himself for it. Even if, in spite of his attempts to reconcile what he'd done with what he was, he couldn't ignore the bloodstained hat he was still wearing on his head.
Raidon was revolted by his thoughts; revolted by the thought of all he might have to do to win this sick game, and equally revolted by the idea of dying. Troubled, sick at heart, and afraid that Julian--lightly armed, to be sure, but still dangerous--might return, Raidon left the Residential Area and looked for someplace more desolate to shelter. Several rickety old buildings, long since abandoned by whoever had owned them, were near one of old Tunnel entrances, the only sign of the fighting a corpse splayed nearby. He didn't recognize the body--didn't stick around long enough to identify it, truth be told--and so sheltered in one of the buildings and waited for the next set of Announcements. Waited for his name to come up.
He grimaced when it did. Whatever happened now, he was a killer.
As he updated his list, grimacing at the kills his enemies had managed (particularly Max and Reiko--these were clear and present threats, and he'd have to deal with them the first chance he got), he heard new voices from outside. People.
Raidon considered his options. Door on his left. How many people? He couldn't know that until he looked. How well armed? Couldn't know that either. He cursed himself for not choosing a room with windows.
Alright, Raidon thought. I...alright. He got slowly to his feet, left his bag to the side of the door--didn't want it slowing him down--and quietly, slowly opened the door.
Stopped.
"Charles," he said in disbelief, louder than he intended.
If he was so determined not to be a killer, he should have put the gun down.
Some feeble impulse within Raiodn--some last faint hope that he was not a murderer, that he was simply a kid propelled into extreme circumstances who reacted in an understandably extreme fashion--kept insisting that the death of Scott McGregor was an accident. That they had been in a tense situation and Raidon, the edge of mercy, had been about to lower his gun when the other boy made a sudden move.
But Raidon refused to listen. He knew damn well how easy it would have been to put that gun down. He had drawn the gun on Scott with every intention of eliminating Scott McGregor, even if...
Even if he hated himself for it. Even if, in spite of his attempts to reconcile what he'd done with what he was, he couldn't ignore the bloodstained hat he was still wearing on his head.
Raidon was revolted by his thoughts; revolted by the thought of all he might have to do to win this sick game, and equally revolted by the idea of dying. Troubled, sick at heart, and afraid that Julian--lightly armed, to be sure, but still dangerous--might return, Raidon left the Residential Area and looked for someplace more desolate to shelter. Several rickety old buildings, long since abandoned by whoever had owned them, were near one of old Tunnel entrances, the only sign of the fighting a corpse splayed nearby. He didn't recognize the body--didn't stick around long enough to identify it, truth be told--and so sheltered in one of the buildings and waited for the next set of Announcements. Waited for his name to come up.
He grimaced when it did. Whatever happened now, he was a killer.
As he updated his list, grimacing at the kills his enemies had managed (particularly Max and Reiko--these were clear and present threats, and he'd have to deal with them the first chance he got), he heard new voices from outside. People.
Raidon considered his options. Door on his left. How many people? He couldn't know that until he looked. How well armed? Couldn't know that either. He cursed himself for not choosing a room with windows.
Alright, Raidon thought. I...alright. He got slowly to his feet, left his bag to the side of the door--didn't want it slowing him down--and quietly, slowly opened the door.
Stopped.
"Charles," he said in disbelief, louder than he intended.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
"Where are we, anyway?"
"If I recall the description I read on the map yesterday correctly... this should be the abandoned mine site." He responded. After a short pause he continued "I figured if we kept running but stuck near the mountain, then even if we didn't lose her we'd still eventually find an entrance to the tunnels. I don't really want to go back down there, but there isn't any better place to lose a tail, in my opinion."
Charles heard someone say his name. Looking around he managed to catch a glimpse of what appeared to be Naoko Raidon, the first person he had met on this island.
"Naoko Raidon, is that you in there?" Charles asked the figure, "That was an accident, right? What we heard on the announcement just now. You seemed rather jumpy when we met down in the tunnels." He used his questioning to relay information to Maddy, he may believe that the shooting was an accident, but he should still let her know what he knew. Hopefully she had picked it up.
"This is Maddy," he added, gesturing at the girl next to him, "She and I were discussing a plan that could hopefully bring down this sick program when we were attacked by someone who disagreed with our particular plan. We came here in the escape attempt, figuring that those labyrinthine tunnels would make it easier to get away."
"If I recall the description I read on the map yesterday correctly... this should be the abandoned mine site." He responded. After a short pause he continued "I figured if we kept running but stuck near the mountain, then even if we didn't lose her we'd still eventually find an entrance to the tunnels. I don't really want to go back down there, but there isn't any better place to lose a tail, in my opinion."
Charles heard someone say his name. Looking around he managed to catch a glimpse of what appeared to be Naoko Raidon, the first person he had met on this island.
"Naoko Raidon, is that you in there?" Charles asked the figure, "That was an accident, right? What we heard on the announcement just now. You seemed rather jumpy when we met down in the tunnels." He used his questioning to relay information to Maddy, he may believe that the shooting was an accident, but he should still let her know what he knew. Hopefully she had picked it up.
"This is Maddy," he added, gesturing at the girl next to him, "She and I were discussing a plan that could hopefully bring down this sick program when we were attacked by someone who disagreed with our particular plan. We came here in the escape attempt, figuring that those labyrinthine tunnels would make it easier to get away."
((Clio Gabriella continues her journey from instinctalgorithm. If you're reading this backwards, I suppose you could probably follow the link. Yes, I'm talking to you))
((Yes, short post, but only because I've been holding the death up))
Clio would not have been surprised if she had been a mountain goat in a past life. She got down the mountain with such relative ease compared to the other two, who she was trying to delicately follow. Yes, she had a lot more trouble considering that she hadn't slept for a long time. She hadn't eaten, either, that was something to consider.
Buildings, small ones. It must have been a mine or something, considering how old it was and how desolate it seemed. She'd almost lost track of them, but then she heard speaking, a name. It was definitely the person who they were looking for:
"Charles".
This was her queue, she supposed. Jumping out from cover in a wild attempt to find them, she saw them, and one more.
Gun at the ready, she aimed and fired twice. Rockets of pain shattered her hands and her stability, but she kept it steady. She wanted more than anything to stop this wild attempt against her life.
((Yes, short post, but only because I've been holding the death up))
Clio would not have been surprised if she had been a mountain goat in a past life. She got down the mountain with such relative ease compared to the other two, who she was trying to delicately follow. Yes, she had a lot more trouble considering that she hadn't slept for a long time. She hadn't eaten, either, that was something to consider.
Buildings, small ones. It must have been a mine or something, considering how old it was and how desolate it seemed. She'd almost lost track of them, but then she heard speaking, a name. It was definitely the person who they were looking for:
"Charles".
This was her queue, she supposed. Jumping out from cover in a wild attempt to find them, she saw them, and one more.
Gun at the ready, she aimed and fired twice. Rockets of pain shattered her hands and her stability, but she kept it steady. She wanted more than anything to stop this wild attempt against her life.
((GMing approved by Inky and xylophonefairy))
Charles let out a scream of agony when he felt the searing pain from one of the bullets piercing his left shoulder. The loud *bang* of the gun firing had reached his ears too late to give him a chance to dodge. The second bullet missed and hit the ground a few feet in front of him, causing a small cloud of dust to quickly rise from the point of impact. His blood poured down his back from the wound. All attempts to move his arm resulted in severe pain and little, if any, movement.
He knew that if he ran Clio would just follow them until they were both dead, this had to end here. He grabbed his bag and tossed toward Maddy.
"Maddy," He yelled, putting distance between himself and his companion so that any shots aimed at him wouldn't hit his friend,"take that and run into the tunnels! I'll keep her occupied! HURRY!"
He turned toward the person who shot him, another bullet narrowly missing him. *bang*
Would Maddy be okay? Would the plan work? Pain shot from the new hole in his stomach.*bang* He stumbled but managed to regain his footing, every step caused more pain, slowing him down, he wasn't running anymore, but he forced himself to move closer to his killer. With a look of determination on his face and his right hand clenched into a fist, he tried to make himself look like the biggest threat he was able to make himself look, but in the state he was in that probably wasn't much.
He felt weak, between the shoulder wound and the stomach wound he was losing a lot of blood, either of the wounds would likely cause him to bleed to death, and with his heart pumping as fast as it was the blood lose was even worse. He was starting to get dizzy from the blood lose and would have collapsed from it had a shot to the kneecap not beaten it to that goal. *bang*
This was it. He wasn't going to survive much longer. Memories filled his last moments, of Bayview, of his friends, of.... He looked weakly upwards toward Clio, she was looking around... for Maddy? Clio looked down towards Charles, and pointed her gun towards his head. Introspection was to be expected in situations like this and Charles was no different, in fact he realized something about himself that he had never realized before. For the first time in his life, he finally realized that he-
((Boy 038-Charles Richard Dawson; Deceased))
*bang*
Charles let out a scream of agony when he felt the searing pain from one of the bullets piercing his left shoulder. The loud *bang* of the gun firing had reached his ears too late to give him a chance to dodge. The second bullet missed and hit the ground a few feet in front of him, causing a small cloud of dust to quickly rise from the point of impact. His blood poured down his back from the wound. All attempts to move his arm resulted in severe pain and little, if any, movement.
He knew that if he ran Clio would just follow them until they were both dead, this had to end here. He grabbed his bag and tossed toward Maddy.
"Maddy," He yelled, putting distance between himself and his companion so that any shots aimed at him wouldn't hit his friend,"take that and run into the tunnels! I'll keep her occupied! HURRY!"
He turned toward the person who shot him, another bullet narrowly missing him. *bang*
Would Maddy be okay? Would the plan work? Pain shot from the new hole in his stomach.*bang* He stumbled but managed to regain his footing, every step caused more pain, slowing him down, he wasn't running anymore, but he forced himself to move closer to his killer. With a look of determination on his face and his right hand clenched into a fist, he tried to make himself look like the biggest threat he was able to make himself look, but in the state he was in that probably wasn't much.
He felt weak, between the shoulder wound and the stomach wound he was losing a lot of blood, either of the wounds would likely cause him to bleed to death, and with his heart pumping as fast as it was the blood lose was even worse. He was starting to get dizzy from the blood lose and would have collapsed from it had a shot to the kneecap not beaten it to that goal. *bang*
This was it. He wasn't going to survive much longer. Memories filled his last moments, of Bayview, of his friends, of.... He looked weakly upwards toward Clio, she was looking around... for Maddy? Clio looked down towards Charles, and pointed her gun towards his head. Introspection was to be expected in situations like this and Charles was no different, in fact he realized something about himself that he had never realized before. For the first time in his life, he finally realized that he-
((Boy 038-Charles Richard Dawson; Deceased))
*bang*
He felt hope.
It was stupid of him, he knew. There were rumors on all the SotF channels of the previous escape attempts--of the students who'd tried to force their way free. Raidon didn't really participate in the forums but he kept abreast of them, he'd heard about leaked footage (Even Danya's organization wasn't airtight, or so they said), about a mass rebellion of students.
Could Charles and this girl have done the same? Could there be a way out?
Gunshots.
Raidon pulled back, through himself behind the wall and clutched at his gun. Someone had attacked, someone who wasn't him, and to Raidon's great surprise he discovered that he could be calm under fire. The only thought he had was how mind-numbingly loud the bullets were, how deafening; perhaps because the terror of Scott's death had driven out all other thoughts, he hadn't noticed with the last kill.
Adrenaline had flooded his system, taken with it his doubts and his frost. He was all steel now, hard and quick, determined and emotionless. He was surgery in mind, cool and cutting, precise as could be. Someone was outside; they hadn't seen Raidon, in all likelihood. He could wait here, take them out as they went by. He had a window--a small one, to be fair, but still...
"MADDY!" he heard Charles scream. Gunshots drowned out the rest, but he heard only one more bit; "...her occupied! HURRY!"
Charles?
Raidon got his feet, still without thinking, kicked open the still-open door, and aimed his gun.
Stopped. Froze.
Charles body pitched forwards. The girl's gun was still smoking from the shot, as she stood over the bloodspattered, wrecked form of Charles. Charles, the first person he'd met on this island; Charles, who he'd been unable to kill upon their first encounter, for whatever reason. Charles, who was now dead at the feet, killed by this girl.
Killed by a killer. Killed by the kind of person Raidon was trying to be.
Well.
He'd been standing there for about a second, staring; fortunately, however, his gun was still in his hand, and his mind was moving with the same deadly force that had so astonished him the moment he'd ducked behind cover.
He opened fire.
It was stupid of him, he knew. There were rumors on all the SotF channels of the previous escape attempts--of the students who'd tried to force their way free. Raidon didn't really participate in the forums but he kept abreast of them, he'd heard about leaked footage (Even Danya's organization wasn't airtight, or so they said), about a mass rebellion of students.
Could Charles and this girl have done the same? Could there be a way out?
Gunshots.
Raidon pulled back, through himself behind the wall and clutched at his gun. Someone had attacked, someone who wasn't him, and to Raidon's great surprise he discovered that he could be calm under fire. The only thought he had was how mind-numbingly loud the bullets were, how deafening; perhaps because the terror of Scott's death had driven out all other thoughts, he hadn't noticed with the last kill.
Adrenaline had flooded his system, taken with it his doubts and his frost. He was all steel now, hard and quick, determined and emotionless. He was surgery in mind, cool and cutting, precise as could be. Someone was outside; they hadn't seen Raidon, in all likelihood. He could wait here, take them out as they went by. He had a window--a small one, to be fair, but still...
"MADDY!" he heard Charles scream. Gunshots drowned out the rest, but he heard only one more bit; "...her occupied! HURRY!"
Charles?
Raidon got his feet, still without thinking, kicked open the still-open door, and aimed his gun.
Stopped. Froze.
Charles body pitched forwards. The girl's gun was still smoking from the shot, as she stood over the bloodspattered, wrecked form of Charles. Charles, the first person he'd met on this island; Charles, who he'd been unable to kill upon their first encounter, for whatever reason. Charles, who was now dead at the feet, killed by this girl.
Killed by a killer. Killed by the kind of person Raidon was trying to be.
Well.
He'd been standing there for about a second, staring; fortunately, however, his gun was still in his hand, and his mind was moving with the same deadly force that had so astonished him the moment he'd ducked behind cover.
He opened fire.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
-
xylophonefairy†
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:55 am
Maddy had smiled at Raidon when he'd first appeared, and Charles introduced them to each other and described his plan in short. While this was happening, Maddy took a couple of seconds out to inspect the grazes on her hands which were beginning to smart now that the adrenaline from the race down the hill was wearing off and it appeared that Clio hadn't followed them.
That was her thought, at least, until shots started ringing out from nowhere. Miraculously, or perhaps because she wasn't the main target, they all went straight past her. The first went straight into Charles' shoulder, and from then on, things seemed to occur in slow motion. Her senses were on high alert, and she turned round to see where they had come from, seeing Clio with her gun smoking, then went to run and help Charles, even as another shot hit the ground right in front of them. He was running forwards, towards the person who was trying to kill them? And specifically away from her. Throwing his bag at her and telling her to run, but her legs had turned to stone. She couldn't move.
The next shot to his stomach changed that. And like a coward she ran.
There wasn't really anywhere to go, she didn't want to get too far away. If Clio would just go away she could perhaps get over there and help him somehow. Squeezing her eyes shut, Maddy pressed her forehead into violently shaking hands. Let them all go away, let them all go away all the while feeling sick at her own behaviour. Love thy neighbour; was this really helping anyone? Trying to will the rest of the world away. Pressing her eyes to her knees which were tucked up under her body she clamped her hands over her ears. Charles' bag lay abandoned next to her own at her feet.
Two more gunshots.
She'd been remarkably ambivalent about death so far, avoiding it at every turn by some twist of fate. Now she had been pitched right into it, and wanted nothing more to get out. Shaking, she managed to rock her body forwards until her forehead touched the dirt then sat back on her heels, her eyes cast to the sky, but for one of the first times in her life, there was no prayer to be found. Maddy knew what she was supposed to do, pray for the ascension of Charles' atheist body to her heaven, he wasn't getting away that easy, pray for her own protection, pray for Raidon's safety and pray for Clio's soul. Instead (after all, what kind of God would let this kind of thing happen?) she peeked around from behind her column, just as Raidon came out from his own hiding place and started shooting back.
Maddy stood up, reaching for her machete, but conscience took over. Killing someone? Wasn't that what they'd been trying to avoid? That was going against the very heart and essence of both God and Charles' plans for her; for the first time ever, perhaps, they had agreed with each other. She let go of the zipper of her duffel bag that she'd grabbed in her haste, and put it back on her forehead, feeling sick. His body was less than twenty metres away from her.
"There's a fine, fine line," she murmured to herself. "Between consience and cowardice..."
That was her thought, at least, until shots started ringing out from nowhere. Miraculously, or perhaps because she wasn't the main target, they all went straight past her. The first went straight into Charles' shoulder, and from then on, things seemed to occur in slow motion. Her senses were on high alert, and she turned round to see where they had come from, seeing Clio with her gun smoking, then went to run and help Charles, even as another shot hit the ground right in front of them. He was running forwards, towards the person who was trying to kill them? And specifically away from her. Throwing his bag at her and telling her to run, but her legs had turned to stone. She couldn't move.
The next shot to his stomach changed that. And like a coward she ran.
There wasn't really anywhere to go, she didn't want to get too far away. If Clio would just go away she could perhaps get over there and help him somehow. Squeezing her eyes shut, Maddy pressed her forehead into violently shaking hands. Let them all go away, let them all go away all the while feeling sick at her own behaviour. Love thy neighbour; was this really helping anyone? Trying to will the rest of the world away. Pressing her eyes to her knees which were tucked up under her body she clamped her hands over her ears. Charles' bag lay abandoned next to her own at her feet.
Two more gunshots.
She'd been remarkably ambivalent about death so far, avoiding it at every turn by some twist of fate. Now she had been pitched right into it, and wanted nothing more to get out. Shaking, she managed to rock her body forwards until her forehead touched the dirt then sat back on her heels, her eyes cast to the sky, but for one of the first times in her life, there was no prayer to be found. Maddy knew what she was supposed to do, pray for the ascension of Charles' atheist body to her heaven, he wasn't getting away that easy, pray for her own protection, pray for Raidon's safety and pray for Clio's soul. Instead (after all, what kind of God would let this kind of thing happen?) she peeked around from behind her column, just as Raidon came out from his own hiding place and started shooting back.
Maddy stood up, reaching for her machete, but conscience took over. Killing someone? Wasn't that what they'd been trying to avoid? That was going against the very heart and essence of both God and Charles' plans for her; for the first time ever, perhaps, they had agreed with each other. She let go of the zipper of her duffel bag that she'd grabbed in her haste, and put it back on her forehead, feeling sick. His body was less than twenty metres away from her.
"There's a fine, fine line," she murmured to herself. "Between consience and cowardice..."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler xylophonefairy. 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.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
It should have been enough, it had to have been enough. He would have got the message after three of them. But she continued. She had to continue. Why did she have to? She didn't have to! He would have known.
But he came even closer.
And that was when her most basic instincts took over. Shoot, kill, protect herself, look after herself above all others. Clio had lost herself, and took him out like the enemy that he was to her, to all of them at that single inflexible point in their lives.
And before she knew it, her promise, her only promise, was broken.
He was dead.
Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD WHY WAS HE FUCKING DEAD?
Suddenly, the world became a lot quieter after realised what she had done. She'd killed, after she told herself she wasn't going to. She'd told herself that she would wait, that she would stop. She'd broken a promise to herself, and from that point on there was no going back. Clio Gabriella, sweet innocent Clio Gabriella, was now a real, bonafied killer.
It was so much the same that it was almost routine. As soon as he stopped moving, as soon as she realised she'd emptied her entire clip into him, she froze like a statue. He'd been so tough, so much harder to stop. And now he was gone, not her problem anymore. The girl he was with was of no consequence, the other boy on the scene was of no consequence, and now...
Her reflexes kicked in again, and realising there was no safe haven here, nothing to stop and survey, she ran.
Gunshots, ones that weren't hers, followed her, she could have sworn one of them knicked her hair as she escaped the mines, but that wasn't what she was focused on.
She was focused on heading south and stopping herself from killing any more.
((Clio Gabriella ------------->???))
Boom.
Boom.
It should have been enough, it had to have been enough. He would have got the message after three of them. But she continued. She had to continue. Why did she have to? She didn't have to! He would have known.
But he came even closer.
And that was when her most basic instincts took over. Shoot, kill, protect herself, look after herself above all others. Clio had lost herself, and took him out like the enemy that he was to her, to all of them at that single inflexible point in their lives.
And before she knew it, her promise, her only promise, was broken.
He was dead.
Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD WHY WAS HE FUCKING DEAD?
Suddenly, the world became a lot quieter after realised what she had done. She'd killed, after she told herself she wasn't going to. She'd told herself that she would wait, that she would stop. She'd broken a promise to herself, and from that point on there was no going back. Clio Gabriella, sweet innocent Clio Gabriella, was now a real, bonafied killer.
It was so much the same that it was almost routine. As soon as he stopped moving, as soon as she realised she'd emptied her entire clip into him, she froze like a statue. He'd been so tough, so much harder to stop. And now he was gone, not her problem anymore. The girl he was with was of no consequence, the other boy on the scene was of no consequence, and now...
Her reflexes kicked in again, and realising there was no safe haven here, nothing to stop and survey, she ran.
Gunshots, ones that weren't hers, followed her, she could have sworn one of them knicked her hair as she escaped the mines, but that wasn't what she was focused on.
She was focused on heading south and stopping herself from killing any more.
((Clio Gabriella ------------->???))
He'd been standing there too long; by the time he started to fire, she was off and running. With a grimace he stepped out into the open, lifted his gun, pulled her into his sights, fired again. She jerked left just before he pulled the trigger, and he'd already fired; by the time he'd aimed again, she'd rounded the corner and was gone.
Two quick steps, gun still in hand, the dull ringing echoes of the bullets still in his ears, and then he stopped himself. She had a gun, she was a killer, she could quite easily be waiting in ambush. The only reason he'd driven her off was because he had the element of the surprise; if he engaged her now, he had no idea what she might do.
It was necessary, if he wanted to stay alive, to eliminate the other killers. It was equally necessary, if he wanted to stay alive, no avoid engaging them on their own terms.
He glanced down. Charles was at his feet, blood pouring out into the dusty earth. Bile rose, thick and strong, in Raidon's throat; he at once jerked his head away, to the living girl near him. To the girl who'd been with Charles when he announced that he had a plan to escape this wretched island, so that maybe, just maybe...
My hands are already dirty, he thought, around the lump in his throat. He had shot someone. He was wearing their...
He fingered the hat on his head, one side still stiff with dried blood.
No time to check if she was okay. They were in danger here--the girl who'd killed Charles could come back at any time. If she had a way out, if she had a way that they really could escape...
"You said you had a plan," he said, his eyes flickering between her and the corner around which their assailant had vanished. "You and Charles. What is it?"
Two quick steps, gun still in hand, the dull ringing echoes of the bullets still in his ears, and then he stopped himself. She had a gun, she was a killer, she could quite easily be waiting in ambush. The only reason he'd driven her off was because he had the element of the surprise; if he engaged her now, he had no idea what she might do.
It was necessary, if he wanted to stay alive, to eliminate the other killers. It was equally necessary, if he wanted to stay alive, no avoid engaging them on their own terms.
He glanced down. Charles was at his feet, blood pouring out into the dusty earth. Bile rose, thick and strong, in Raidon's throat; he at once jerked his head away, to the living girl near him. To the girl who'd been with Charles when he announced that he had a plan to escape this wretched island, so that maybe, just maybe...
My hands are already dirty, he thought, around the lump in his throat. He had shot someone. He was wearing their...
He fingered the hat on his head, one side still stiff with dried blood.
No time to check if she was okay. They were in danger here--the girl who'd killed Charles could come back at any time. If she had a way out, if she had a way that they really could escape...
"You said you had a plan," he said, his eyes flickering between her and the corner around which their assailant had vanished. "You and Charles. What is it?"
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
-
xylophonefairy†
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:55 am
Maddy saw Clio make her exit, Raidon's shots spitting into the dust she kicked up as she left. Did that make it safe? She had no idea, but elected to get up and do something. It was too easy to sit and not pray. This was time to confront her faith, confront her God, confront all the fears that she had about death. Getting shakily to her feet, she rounded the corner. Raidon was stood close to Charles' body, which was slowly seeping blood into the ground, oozing, his expression still totally alive. If she closed one eye and blocked off his bullet ridden body with her hand, he could have been sleeping.
Taking a couple of stumbling steps forward, Maddy knelt down next to his body. Tears began, slowly, to drip from the corners of her eyes, obscuring her vision. She grabbed a couple of handfuls of the bloodied earth and began pushing it back into the wounds. Don't die! Clutching at his wrist, she felt roughly for a pulse, which wasn't there, and she threw his arm back on the ground. It was still warm.
He's actually dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. You know what dead means. It means he's not coming back. Never. He knows now. He knows.
Choking back a sudden urge to cry out, to scream, Maddy stood up and took a couple of large steps backwards, trying to get herself as far away as she could. She looked up, but the sky wasn't there, the great sky pixie wasn't there. He wasn't there, just when she needed Him. Her lips trembled; all her life God had been with her, and yet now she just couldn't feel him. There was nothing; there was an emptiness in her soul. Balling her hands into fists, she became slowly aware that Raidon was talking to her.
"You said you had a plan. You and Charles. What is it?"
Maddy let out a short, humourless laugh, shaking her head and turning away from him. A large part of her didn't want to tell him, look what had happened last time. Her eyes flickered over to where Charles' body lay, and she kept fighting back the urge to scream; her chest was burning with the concentration and effort it required. Pent up frustration that she had to let out somewhere. Perhaps the plan could work, perhaps it could be some kind of memorial to him, and to the Him she could no longer seem to find. Running her fingers up and down her forehead, eyes closed, she managed to calm herself temporarily, before turning back to Raidon.
"He wanted..." her voice cracked, and to hide it she coughed. "He wanted everyone to stop killing each other, to run down 24 hours without a single death, and then we'd all die by collar explosion. And then maybe the next generation would follow our lead, and eventually they'd give up." Maddy shook her head again. "But it won't work. Because there's always a Clio," she gestured roughly in the direction that Clio had run off. "And it's not just her, everyone's killing now."
It didn't matter to her. She had no intention of killing anyone. What was the point when they were all going to die eventually anyway?
Taking a couple of stumbling steps forward, Maddy knelt down next to his body. Tears began, slowly, to drip from the corners of her eyes, obscuring her vision. She grabbed a couple of handfuls of the bloodied earth and began pushing it back into the wounds. Don't die! Clutching at his wrist, she felt roughly for a pulse, which wasn't there, and she threw his arm back on the ground. It was still warm.
He's actually dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. You know what dead means. It means he's not coming back. Never. He knows now. He knows.
Choking back a sudden urge to cry out, to scream, Maddy stood up and took a couple of large steps backwards, trying to get herself as far away as she could. She looked up, but the sky wasn't there, the great sky pixie wasn't there. He wasn't there, just when she needed Him. Her lips trembled; all her life God had been with her, and yet now she just couldn't feel him. There was nothing; there was an emptiness in her soul. Balling her hands into fists, she became slowly aware that Raidon was talking to her.
"You said you had a plan. You and Charles. What is it?"
Maddy let out a short, humourless laugh, shaking her head and turning away from him. A large part of her didn't want to tell him, look what had happened last time. Her eyes flickered over to where Charles' body lay, and she kept fighting back the urge to scream; her chest was burning with the concentration and effort it required. Pent up frustration that she had to let out somewhere. Perhaps the plan could work, perhaps it could be some kind of memorial to him, and to the Him she could no longer seem to find. Running her fingers up and down her forehead, eyes closed, she managed to calm herself temporarily, before turning back to Raidon.
"He wanted..." her voice cracked, and to hide it she coughed. "He wanted everyone to stop killing each other, to run down 24 hours without a single death, and then we'd all die by collar explosion. And then maybe the next generation would follow our lead, and eventually they'd give up." Maddy shook her head again. "But it won't work. Because there's always a Clio," she gestured roughly in the direction that Clio had run off. "And it's not just her, everyone's killing now."
It didn't matter to her. She had no intention of killing anyone. What was the point when they were all going to die eventually anyway?
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler xylophonefairy. 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.
Every trace of emotion vanished from Raidon's face. That was to be expected; every trace of emotion had vanished from within him.
Mass suicide.
He preferred his version--the version where Charles was an unexpected visionary, where Raidon's act of mercy (his restraint of his baser instincts) had resulted in this young leader concocting this ingenius plan to bring them out alive. Not this. Not useless martyrdom, not psychosis, not pointless suicide. What had he risked himself for? Why had he even bothered stepping into the open?
Charles Dawson. I should have killed you myself.
And what about this girl? The only soul, besides himself, who knew of Charles' plan? Was she going to carry it out in his stead?
When he lifted his gun and pointed it at Maddy, his hand wasn't shaking in the slightest.
She didn't react much--only closed her eyes, her lips folding into a tight line. "That's the flaw?" he asked her. "There's always a Clio?" His eyes blazed from the confines of his face. "I won't attack the veracity of your statement, miss, but..." He trailed off, his eyes coming to rest on the collar of her shirt. On the cross dangling from a necklace there.
"The flaw, little miss religious," he said softly, all the long years of debate flowing into him in one smooth rhetoric born of a flat place devoid of emotion, as though he were in front of classroom trying to win a judge over on some arbitrary standard. "Is that your plan is suicide. Are you Catholic? I suppose it doesn't matter much--we all know of martyrs. Personally, I never understood them. They seemed to me little more than desperate men trying to commit suicide-by-proxy. Perhaps that is only me, though. Perhaps that is only the opinion of a foolish boy with no real conception of God."
His hand continued to stay steady, much to his surprise, and he took a step towards her, training his sights on her head. "I know enough, however, to know you. To know me. To know people. You think the problem is Clio, or Reiko? You have another thing coming, miss. The 'problem'," he pronounced the word vindictively. "Is that people like to live. The killers. The victims. The bystanders. The would-be heroes. Everyone. Wants. To live."
He took another step, holding his gun centimeters from her head, and then bent over and moved a hand behind her neck, deftly removing the clasp of her cross and taking it into his free hand. Still pointing the gun at her head, he stared at it for a long few seconds.
"Damn yourself on your own time," he said softly. "Your life is your own, use it however you choose." He flung the cross into the dusty ground between them and turned away without a second thought. "I'll do anything in my power to stay alive," he said aloud, though he was talking more to himself than to her. "If you're not willing to do the same, you're better off dead."
Off in the direction Clio had gone, off into danger and murder, blood and anguish, and, if he was lucky, life.
(Naoko Raidon continued in Civilization at Any Price)
Mass suicide.
He preferred his version--the version where Charles was an unexpected visionary, where Raidon's act of mercy (his restraint of his baser instincts) had resulted in this young leader concocting this ingenius plan to bring them out alive. Not this. Not useless martyrdom, not psychosis, not pointless suicide. What had he risked himself for? Why had he even bothered stepping into the open?
Charles Dawson. I should have killed you myself.
And what about this girl? The only soul, besides himself, who knew of Charles' plan? Was she going to carry it out in his stead?
When he lifted his gun and pointed it at Maddy, his hand wasn't shaking in the slightest.
She didn't react much--only closed her eyes, her lips folding into a tight line. "That's the flaw?" he asked her. "There's always a Clio?" His eyes blazed from the confines of his face. "I won't attack the veracity of your statement, miss, but..." He trailed off, his eyes coming to rest on the collar of her shirt. On the cross dangling from a necklace there.
"The flaw, little miss religious," he said softly, all the long years of debate flowing into him in one smooth rhetoric born of a flat place devoid of emotion, as though he were in front of classroom trying to win a judge over on some arbitrary standard. "Is that your plan is suicide. Are you Catholic? I suppose it doesn't matter much--we all know of martyrs. Personally, I never understood them. They seemed to me little more than desperate men trying to commit suicide-by-proxy. Perhaps that is only me, though. Perhaps that is only the opinion of a foolish boy with no real conception of God."
His hand continued to stay steady, much to his surprise, and he took a step towards her, training his sights on her head. "I know enough, however, to know you. To know me. To know people. You think the problem is Clio, or Reiko? You have another thing coming, miss. The 'problem'," he pronounced the word vindictively. "Is that people like to live. The killers. The victims. The bystanders. The would-be heroes. Everyone. Wants. To live."
He took another step, holding his gun centimeters from her head, and then bent over and moved a hand behind her neck, deftly removing the clasp of her cross and taking it into his free hand. Still pointing the gun at her head, he stared at it for a long few seconds.
"Damn yourself on your own time," he said softly. "Your life is your own, use it however you choose." He flung the cross into the dusty ground between them and turned away without a second thought. "I'll do anything in my power to stay alive," he said aloud, though he was talking more to himself than to her. "If you're not willing to do the same, you're better off dead."
Off in the direction Clio had gone, off into danger and murder, blood and anguish, and, if he was lucky, life.
(Naoko Raidon continued in Civilization at Any Price)
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
-
xylophonefairy†
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:55 am
Please shoot me.
The minute the thought entered her head she couldn't get rid of it. Mulling it over, looking at it from different angles; it was a work of particularly appalling art and she was trying to figure out how it had ever come to be. Raidon had changed when she had stopped talking, and now he was answering, but all that mattered was that he was holding a gun to her head. The first gun has scared her. The second she had been indifferent to. The third... apparently she wished he would pull the trigger. But then her death would be pointless and it would be read out in the morning announcements, just another piece of meat. She wondered who would care about her death?
Rachel? Not likely after she'd shunned her company earlier on and now she was off being one of the things that they'd swore they'd never become. A murderer.
Peter? She hoped so. He had been her prom date after all.
The rest of GODSpeed? Their group had been dispersed. Their spirit had been essentially flattened when their leader had gone against all of their beliefs. Odd names had floated in and out of the announcements, and Maddy forced herself not to think of them. Everett popped into her head. She hadn't even been friends with him for very long, and yet, somewhere on the island his corpse lay rotting, uncared for. Maddy dreaded coming across his body.
"Everyone. Wants. To live."
He was close to her now. She could feel his breath on her face, could sense the gun almost touching her, lethal. She could pull out her machete and run it through his stomach, kill him now. The power was there. His hand reached around the back of neck, an uncomfortably intimate gesture for someone she barely knew. Deftly, he unclasped her cross, and threw in into the dust at her feet, making a sharp exit seconds later before she'd even opened her eyes. Taking a few steps after him, she shouted into the sunrise.
"I HATE YOU!"
Fists clenched into balls, she turned and went back into the mouth of the mine, bending down and picking her cross up, brushing the dust off it. It had been everywhere with her for years, and yet seeing it damaged wasn't really bothering her. Maddy put it in her pocket, not liking to leave it all the same. She had no intention of hanging around near Charles' body, but now that she was alone with him and the overweight kid she didn't even know the name of, she pulled a water bottle out of her bag, and sprinkled a few drops over each of their bodies.
"Grant this mercy, O Lord, we beseech Thee, to Thy servant departed, that he may not receive in punishment the requital of his deeds who in desire did keep Thy will, and as the true faith here united him to the company of the faithful, so may Thy mercy unite him above to the choirs of angels. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."
Wherever Charles was now, he probably hated her for this. But this was the only chance she was going to get of seeing him in Heaven. As for the other kid; she didn't want to take any chances on his soul. Satisfied that her work was done, Maddy went over to where she had dumped Charles' bag, rifling through it and producing anything that might be of use. His weapon, bread, a tee shirt, bottles of water. Then she stowed the bag away in a secluded corner where she doubted anyone could find it, and marked it with a piece of white chalk. Walking to the entrance to the mine, Maddy stopped and took one last look at Charles' wasted body, pressing her lips together to prevent herself from crying and holding her machete like a sword in the right hand, she looked forwards.
Now to find revenge.
((Maddy Stone continued in These Three Remain))
The minute the thought entered her head she couldn't get rid of it. Mulling it over, looking at it from different angles; it was a work of particularly appalling art and she was trying to figure out how it had ever come to be. Raidon had changed when she had stopped talking, and now he was answering, but all that mattered was that he was holding a gun to her head. The first gun has scared her. The second she had been indifferent to. The third... apparently she wished he would pull the trigger. But then her death would be pointless and it would be read out in the morning announcements, just another piece of meat. She wondered who would care about her death?
Rachel? Not likely after she'd shunned her company earlier on and now she was off being one of the things that they'd swore they'd never become. A murderer.
Peter? She hoped so. He had been her prom date after all.
The rest of GODSpeed? Their group had been dispersed. Their spirit had been essentially flattened when their leader had gone against all of their beliefs. Odd names had floated in and out of the announcements, and Maddy forced herself not to think of them. Everett popped into her head. She hadn't even been friends with him for very long, and yet, somewhere on the island his corpse lay rotting, uncared for. Maddy dreaded coming across his body.
"Everyone. Wants. To live."
He was close to her now. She could feel his breath on her face, could sense the gun almost touching her, lethal. She could pull out her machete and run it through his stomach, kill him now. The power was there. His hand reached around the back of neck, an uncomfortably intimate gesture for someone she barely knew. Deftly, he unclasped her cross, and threw in into the dust at her feet, making a sharp exit seconds later before she'd even opened her eyes. Taking a few steps after him, she shouted into the sunrise.
"I HATE YOU!"
Fists clenched into balls, she turned and went back into the mouth of the mine, bending down and picking her cross up, brushing the dust off it. It had been everywhere with her for years, and yet seeing it damaged wasn't really bothering her. Maddy put it in her pocket, not liking to leave it all the same. She had no intention of hanging around near Charles' body, but now that she was alone with him and the overweight kid she didn't even know the name of, she pulled a water bottle out of her bag, and sprinkled a few drops over each of their bodies.
"Grant this mercy, O Lord, we beseech Thee, to Thy servant departed, that he may not receive in punishment the requital of his deeds who in desire did keep Thy will, and as the true faith here united him to the company of the faithful, so may Thy mercy unite him above to the choirs of angels. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."
Wherever Charles was now, he probably hated her for this. But this was the only chance she was going to get of seeing him in Heaven. As for the other kid; she didn't want to take any chances on his soul. Satisfied that her work was done, Maddy went over to where she had dumped Charles' bag, rifling through it and producing anything that might be of use. His weapon, bread, a tee shirt, bottles of water. Then she stowed the bag away in a secluded corner where she doubted anyone could find it, and marked it with a piece of white chalk. Walking to the entrance to the mine, Maddy stopped and took one last look at Charles' wasted body, pressing her lips together to prevent herself from crying and holding her machete like a sword in the right hand, she looked forwards.
Now to find revenge.
((Maddy Stone continued in These Three Remain))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler xylophonefairy. 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.