((Continued from wherever I was a month ago))
Exhaustedly, Keith dragged himself out of the bushes and into the first clearing he'd seen in an entire day. His situation had proved to degrade itself tremendously. While he'd managed to stay with Kallie - literally carrying her out of the danger zone as they ran away from imminent death, that was where things began to take a ridiculous downswing. The island that they currently were imprisoned upon was like a maze, in some respects. The jungle loomed large and was quite difficult to navigate through, and for literally an entire day, Keith and Kallie had walked around, lost and bewildered. It hadn't been bad, not running into any players for an entire day, but Keith's wounds were still sore, and a constant reminder of what others (and even himself) were capable of.
It had not been until they'd decided to take lodging under a small crevice in the jungle, woken up and kept on moving that Kallie had spotted what looked like a small clearing in the jungle, and a path that led towards it. Internally, Keith was torn. Spending the day with Kallie had been nice; she was good company and someone who he really enjoyed spending time with, but on the other hand, the potentialy possibility of running into players was frightening, at best. Nevertheless, they spent a better chance of survival if they were not lost in the jungle. As he finally emerged from the thick wilderness, Keith breathed a sigh of relief as he saw what looked to be a jail building; indicated by the large bars on the front windows. As Keith, shotgun extended, slowly made his way towards the building, he was actually amazed that the air seemed to smell cleaner than any of the other places he'd been.
The stench of death had seemingly missed this place, which to his aching body and nostrils, was a welcome absence. The place also seemed to be devoid of any other forms of human life, and this pleased Keith. To hole up in a jail might be useful, where security would likely be easier than in say, a hospital, and they could probably keep others out if they really needed.
"S'about fuckin' time..."
Mumbling under his breath as he wandered towards the jail, Keith looked back to where Kallie was following him. He heard her footsteps rustling towards the jail, but she hadn't come into view yet. He'd made sure that he went in first, mainly because he had a shotgun, but also because he felt protective of the girl and didn't wish anything bad to happen to her.
An ol' crush, perhaps? Eh, Jackson? Ya always figured her for kind of a hotty, yeah?
But at present, none of that really mattered too much. What was more important was that they get inside, especially because almost as soon as light had breached the sky, it had opened up and started to rain - and hard. Keith had been shivering, but forced himself to keep on pressing forward, especially when they'd seen a clearing, and to find a building that appeared vacant, especially within a rainstorm? That was lucky, if nothing else.
"C'mon, Kal! In here, doesn't look like anyone's home!"
Striding quickly towards the door of the jail, Keith quickly peered through the bars. People'd obviously been here, but they'd obviously long gone. Confident of the jail's vacancy, Keith slowly opened the front door, and peered inside.
It looked just like any jail, with Jail cells lining the sides of a long hallway. There was a lot of space, a lot of room to maneuver, which was nice; as well as a set of stairs leading up at the end of the hall. Stepping inside and out of the rain, Keith looked back towards where he assumed Kallie was.
"Kallie, c'mon girl! We've hit th' damn jackpot here! Ain't a fuckin' soul in this place, an' I figure it's ours for the takin'. 'Least, for now!"
Standing in the front door, Keith waited for Kallie to join him.
High Voltage
((Holy f'n hell, Kal's been neglected! Continued from the hospital.))
Ever since the hospital had been declared a dangerzone early that morning, Kallie and Keith had been stumbling blindly through the dense jungle. They'd lost sight of Guy and Alice almost immediately after they'd fled the dangerzone, and for the better part of the day, thoughts of whether or not the two were okay or even still alive had been plaguing Kallie's mind. Up until now, she hadn't voiced her concerns all that much, feeling it better not to add another worry to their current situation. At the very least, she and Keith had managed to avoid any sort of danger in the jungle.
The day hadn't been all bad. The island was considerably cooler than it had been in days past, presumably because of the dark clouds that had begun looming overhead. Kallie couldn't help but think it would start to rain soon, but at this point, rain was a welcome change from the heat and terrible humidity they'd been forced to bear for the first few days on the island. At the very least, they'd finally managed to get some rest during their time in the jungle, and it had made a world of difference. Kallie felt so much more awake and aware than she'd been in days, and that fact alone made her feel much safer.
A loud clap of thunder turned her attention up to the sky for a moment, and briefly, Kallie couldn't help but wander what time it was. Her cell phone was dead, and she'd never been the type of person to wear a watch. During the time they'd been wandering throughout the forest, not to mention having taken time to rest, Kallie'd lost all concept of how long they'd been walking. As her attention turned back in front of her, she saw Keith all but disappear through the foliage ahead. As she came closer, she realized that they'd finally found some sort of clearing.
She exited the treeline a few minutes after Keith, and her gaze fell upon the two-story structure that seemed to jut out of practically nowhere. There were no other buildings around, and the iron bars crossing the windows of the first floor seemed to indicate that they had arrived at the island's jailhouse. She had seen it labelled on the map last time she'd looked, although she certainly had no idea that was where they were headed. In fact, the map hadn't been much use at all since they'd entered the forest and gotten turned around multiple times.
It wasn't until she stepped out into the clearing that she realized it actually was raining. The foliage from the jungle had shielded most of the ground from the cool downpour, but now, out in the open, it came down in full force, causing a chill to overtake her for a moment. Brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face, Kallie wrapped her arms around her chest and moved toward the jailhouse, behind Keith. She lingered outside for a moment as Keith entered the jailhouse. The rain was refreshing, if not a bit cold. Still, she definitely didn't want to be stuck out in the rain all day.
Kallie turned her back toward the jailhouse for a moment and found herself peering out into the jungle. The rain that was pouring from the sky made visibility pretty difficult, and if they didn't take shelter in the jail, they might have a hard time spotting unwelcome visitors out in the jungle. On the flip side, the jail didn't seem the safest of places either. There didn't seem to be anyone around, but anyone stuck out on the island would undoubtedly be looking for somewhere to hole up in until the storm had passed by. She wasn't sure about Keith, but she wasn't exactly willing to just accept anybody and everybody with open arms.
What's with you anyway, Kal? You were so outgoing in school... friends with everybody, tried to get along with everybody. Now you're shutting everybody out... everybody except Keith and Guy. Do you really, genuinely think there's nobody else in the whole school that you can trust? Just because you don't know them all that well doesn't mean they're bad people... but you're pushing them all away, 'cause it's not a chance you're willing to take. I guess... I guess maybe it all comes down to trust after all. You've only known Keith, Guy, and Darnell since school started, but... it's like you've known them for ages. Everybody else, they just don't compare... and I'm certainly not willing to die for them. Things will work themselves out... we'll find Guy and Alice... and Darnell... and then... we'll figure out what to do.
The scattered thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Keith's voice indicating that the jailhouse was clear. With a relieved sigh, Kallie made her way through the open doors and turned to shut them behind her. After locking the doors, Kallie turned around to face Keith, a faint smile forming on her lips. At least she wasn't alone. That fact in and of itself made this whole "competition" much easier to bear. Brushing the damp hair from her face, Kallie moved further inside the jailhouse, her gaze moving from cell to cell. This place didn't reek like much of the island did. It seemed like not many people had stumbled upon it. That was definitely a good sign.
The speakers suddenly crackled to life, a noise that barely phased Kallie anymore after the first few times. Had they really wandered through the jungle for an entire day? She stopped moving, her attention turning toward Keith in nauseous anticipation as the stammering voice of Danya's assistant once again started to echo out over the PA system. Kallie had heard a lot of things on the announcements thus far, but what Dorian announced this time nearly made her sick to her stomach.
According to the announcement, only three people had been killed over the course of the day. That, in and of itself, was almost a relief. It seemed like more and more people weren't giving in to the game and were refusing to kill one another. At the same time, two out of the three deaths announced were caused by one person... a person she'd been looking for for the entirety of the game. Darnell Butler. He'd been on the announcements once before, but so had both Keith and Guy. One kill might have been accidental, or even circumstancial... but... three?
The likelihood of three kills being accidental seemed almost nil. A faint frown formed on her features as she thought about it. Darnell, from what she knew, had a past history for being violent, but that was a long time ago, and that wasn't the Darnell she knew. The Darnell she knew was a nice guy, the type of person you wouldn't expect to hurt a fly... but according to the announcements, he had killed three people. She'd heard Eduardo's name on the announcement once before for killing Tanya, but Simon Wood and Dan Brent didn't seem like they'd be players.
Simon was too much of a nice guy and Dan, from what she knew of him, was simply too cowardly. If they weren't playing the game, and according to the announcements, they hadn't killed anyone, then that only meant one thing: Darnell was playing. She didn't want to believe it and immediately tried to push the thoughts from her head, but they seemed to linger there. What if he was playing? What if when they finally found him, he had snapped completely and tried to kill them all? What would they do then?
"Keith..." Kallie muttered quietly, her eyes falling to the floor, "It sounds like Darnell's playing..."
Ever since the hospital had been declared a dangerzone early that morning, Kallie and Keith had been stumbling blindly through the dense jungle. They'd lost sight of Guy and Alice almost immediately after they'd fled the dangerzone, and for the better part of the day, thoughts of whether or not the two were okay or even still alive had been plaguing Kallie's mind. Up until now, she hadn't voiced her concerns all that much, feeling it better not to add another worry to their current situation. At the very least, she and Keith had managed to avoid any sort of danger in the jungle.
The day hadn't been all bad. The island was considerably cooler than it had been in days past, presumably because of the dark clouds that had begun looming overhead. Kallie couldn't help but think it would start to rain soon, but at this point, rain was a welcome change from the heat and terrible humidity they'd been forced to bear for the first few days on the island. At the very least, they'd finally managed to get some rest during their time in the jungle, and it had made a world of difference. Kallie felt so much more awake and aware than she'd been in days, and that fact alone made her feel much safer.
A loud clap of thunder turned her attention up to the sky for a moment, and briefly, Kallie couldn't help but wander what time it was. Her cell phone was dead, and she'd never been the type of person to wear a watch. During the time they'd been wandering throughout the forest, not to mention having taken time to rest, Kallie'd lost all concept of how long they'd been walking. As her attention turned back in front of her, she saw Keith all but disappear through the foliage ahead. As she came closer, she realized that they'd finally found some sort of clearing.
She exited the treeline a few minutes after Keith, and her gaze fell upon the two-story structure that seemed to jut out of practically nowhere. There were no other buildings around, and the iron bars crossing the windows of the first floor seemed to indicate that they had arrived at the island's jailhouse. She had seen it labelled on the map last time she'd looked, although she certainly had no idea that was where they were headed. In fact, the map hadn't been much use at all since they'd entered the forest and gotten turned around multiple times.
It wasn't until she stepped out into the clearing that she realized it actually was raining. The foliage from the jungle had shielded most of the ground from the cool downpour, but now, out in the open, it came down in full force, causing a chill to overtake her for a moment. Brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face, Kallie wrapped her arms around her chest and moved toward the jailhouse, behind Keith. She lingered outside for a moment as Keith entered the jailhouse. The rain was refreshing, if not a bit cold. Still, she definitely didn't want to be stuck out in the rain all day.
Kallie turned her back toward the jailhouse for a moment and found herself peering out into the jungle. The rain that was pouring from the sky made visibility pretty difficult, and if they didn't take shelter in the jail, they might have a hard time spotting unwelcome visitors out in the jungle. On the flip side, the jail didn't seem the safest of places either. There didn't seem to be anyone around, but anyone stuck out on the island would undoubtedly be looking for somewhere to hole up in until the storm had passed by. She wasn't sure about Keith, but she wasn't exactly willing to just accept anybody and everybody with open arms.
What's with you anyway, Kal? You were so outgoing in school... friends with everybody, tried to get along with everybody. Now you're shutting everybody out... everybody except Keith and Guy. Do you really, genuinely think there's nobody else in the whole school that you can trust? Just because you don't know them all that well doesn't mean they're bad people... but you're pushing them all away, 'cause it's not a chance you're willing to take. I guess... I guess maybe it all comes down to trust after all. You've only known Keith, Guy, and Darnell since school started, but... it's like you've known them for ages. Everybody else, they just don't compare... and I'm certainly not willing to die for them. Things will work themselves out... we'll find Guy and Alice... and Darnell... and then... we'll figure out what to do.
The scattered thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Keith's voice indicating that the jailhouse was clear. With a relieved sigh, Kallie made her way through the open doors and turned to shut them behind her. After locking the doors, Kallie turned around to face Keith, a faint smile forming on her lips. At least she wasn't alone. That fact in and of itself made this whole "competition" much easier to bear. Brushing the damp hair from her face, Kallie moved further inside the jailhouse, her gaze moving from cell to cell. This place didn't reek like much of the island did. It seemed like not many people had stumbled upon it. That was definitely a good sign.
The speakers suddenly crackled to life, a noise that barely phased Kallie anymore after the first few times. Had they really wandered through the jungle for an entire day? She stopped moving, her attention turning toward Keith in nauseous anticipation as the stammering voice of Danya's assistant once again started to echo out over the PA system. Kallie had heard a lot of things on the announcements thus far, but what Dorian announced this time nearly made her sick to her stomach.
According to the announcement, only three people had been killed over the course of the day. That, in and of itself, was almost a relief. It seemed like more and more people weren't giving in to the game and were refusing to kill one another. At the same time, two out of the three deaths announced were caused by one person... a person she'd been looking for for the entirety of the game. Darnell Butler. He'd been on the announcements once before, but so had both Keith and Guy. One kill might have been accidental, or even circumstancial... but... three?
The likelihood of three kills being accidental seemed almost nil. A faint frown formed on her features as she thought about it. Darnell, from what she knew, had a past history for being violent, but that was a long time ago, and that wasn't the Darnell she knew. The Darnell she knew was a nice guy, the type of person you wouldn't expect to hurt a fly... but according to the announcements, he had killed three people. She'd heard Eduardo's name on the announcement once before for killing Tanya, but Simon Wood and Dan Brent didn't seem like they'd be players.
Simon was too much of a nice guy and Dan, from what she knew of him, was simply too cowardly. If they weren't playing the game, and according to the announcements, they hadn't killed anyone, then that only meant one thing: Darnell was playing. She didn't want to believe it and immediately tried to push the thoughts from her head, but they seemed to linger there. What if he was playing? What if when they finally found him, he had snapped completely and tried to kill them all? What would they do then?
"Keith..." Kallie muttered quietly, her eyes falling to the floor, "It sounds like Darnell's playing..."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Megami. 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.
((John continued from Betrayal is a Symptom))
John had since abandoned his plan to go to the brook, seeing as how he needs his head attached to his body to live. He'd spent some time thinking about it, and decided that the jailhouse might have some weapons he could use.
"Fucking rain." He said as he trudged along the path to the jailhouse. His shoes and legs were soaked and speckled with mud. His hair was matted to his head and his body was getting colder.
Where is this place? If I don't get out of this, I'll get sick.
Finally the rundown two-story building appeared before him. However with the appearance of the building, was the appearance of two other shelter seeking individuals, who John made out to be Keith and Kallie. Rizzolo saw Keith entered and signal Kallie, probably to show her the coast was clear.
"Time to put on a show Riz ole' boy."
John grabbed his shirt, and ripped it in 4 different places, and made his way toward the door, stumbing around as if he'd been just been through a hellacious battle. As he got to the door, he made a few noises like he wanted to say something, before collapsing in the doorway.
Here's hoping this works.
John had since abandoned his plan to go to the brook, seeing as how he needs his head attached to his body to live. He'd spent some time thinking about it, and decided that the jailhouse might have some weapons he could use.
"Fucking rain." He said as he trudged along the path to the jailhouse. His shoes and legs were soaked and speckled with mud. His hair was matted to his head and his body was getting colder.
Where is this place? If I don't get out of this, I'll get sick.
Finally the rundown two-story building appeared before him. However with the appearance of the building, was the appearance of two other shelter seeking individuals, who John made out to be Keith and Kallie. Rizzolo saw Keith entered and signal Kallie, probably to show her the coast was clear.
"Time to put on a show Riz ole' boy."
John grabbed his shirt, and ripped it in 4 different places, and made his way toward the door, stumbing around as if he'd been just been through a hellacious battle. As he got to the door, he made a few noises like he wanted to say something, before collapsing in the doorway.
Here's hoping this works.
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
Keith had listened to the announcement himself, and things hadn't taken a wonderful turn; especially if what he was hearing was to be believed. A buddy of his, Darnell...Kallie had a point, it certainly seemed like he was playing, and Keith knew exactly how he felt about that. As he listened to the incompetent putz stammer out the announcement that described what little killing had gone on, Darnell's name continued to come up, and the anger within him just continued simmering.
C'mon! What the FUCK, Darnell!? That shit's not really necessary, is it? There's other fuckin' ways to get outta here, instead a' killin' everyone you fuckin' come across!
It was here that Keith came to the conclusion that if they did indeed meet up with Darnell Butler, the meeting may not necessarily be a joyously happy one. It also occurred to him that being as he was the one who was the most well-armed out of him and Kallie, that it'd likely have to be him to do the deed. He'd already killed one person - albeit out of self-defense, and it wasn't very easy. Keith had tried to dismiss how he felt about that - fuck, he didn't even know the kid's name, but that didn't make it any less important. He'd killed some kid - not maliciously but it had happened, and Keith knew that because of it, some people would be a lot less wary about trusting him than they would've been otherwise.
Of course, if that meant he had to stick with his buddies; with Kallie, Guy, and that Alice chick? With Izzy, whom he'd lost track of earlier? These were people that he trusted, but he wasn't really sure about anyone else. Darnell - he would've been a good ally but he'd apparently went all dark side and shit on them, so that option was pretty much out.
Until Kallie and him found Guy again - as much as Keith hated to admit it, they were on their own.
"Fuck, Kal. I hate to say it, but you're right. I mean, y'don't 'accidentally' kill three people. The cops don't buy that excuse, an' I don't think we should either. Fuckin' tears me up to hear it, but I don't think we can trust Darnell anymore."
Scowling, Keith took a moment to survey his new surroundings. The jailhouse was a fairly open building, with cells everywhere and stairs leading upwards - likely to...more cells? It was worth a look, at least, and Keith gestured to the stairs at the end of the hall, intending upon starting down the hallway. He barely had another word to say when the silence was broken by someone else.
Keith had though he'd left the door closed, but it must have been ajar - of course, this didn't matter how that another kid appeared in it, stammering and mumbling, then collapsing to the ground. Hesitantly, Keith raised his shotgun. He hadn't been much willing to trust anyone before, and nothing had changed to put him out of that mindset. Cautiously, he pointed backwards with his head to Kallie, telling her to get behind him.
"Who the fuck are ya?"
The rain was pounding down now, and it caused Keith's heart to race. Either this kid had just been through hell and was looking for a sanctuary, or ... well, that had to be it, right?
Right?
Keith scowled. If Darnell was playing - that meant anyone could be, it was probably best to continue being paranoid, as much as he hated to admit it. Glaring at the kid on the ground, he squinted to make out the rise and fall of his back - the kid was still breathing, at least.
"I said, WHO THE FUCK ARE YA? I've got a fuckin' shotty pointed right at ya, so if you can hear me, then fuckin' get up SLOWLY..."
C'mon! What the FUCK, Darnell!? That shit's not really necessary, is it? There's other fuckin' ways to get outta here, instead a' killin' everyone you fuckin' come across!
It was here that Keith came to the conclusion that if they did indeed meet up with Darnell Butler, the meeting may not necessarily be a joyously happy one. It also occurred to him that being as he was the one who was the most well-armed out of him and Kallie, that it'd likely have to be him to do the deed. He'd already killed one person - albeit out of self-defense, and it wasn't very easy. Keith had tried to dismiss how he felt about that - fuck, he didn't even know the kid's name, but that didn't make it any less important. He'd killed some kid - not maliciously but it had happened, and Keith knew that because of it, some people would be a lot less wary about trusting him than they would've been otherwise.
Of course, if that meant he had to stick with his buddies; with Kallie, Guy, and that Alice chick? With Izzy, whom he'd lost track of earlier? These were people that he trusted, but he wasn't really sure about anyone else. Darnell - he would've been a good ally but he'd apparently went all dark side and shit on them, so that option was pretty much out.
Until Kallie and him found Guy again - as much as Keith hated to admit it, they were on their own.
"Fuck, Kal. I hate to say it, but you're right. I mean, y'don't 'accidentally' kill three people. The cops don't buy that excuse, an' I don't think we should either. Fuckin' tears me up to hear it, but I don't think we can trust Darnell anymore."
Scowling, Keith took a moment to survey his new surroundings. The jailhouse was a fairly open building, with cells everywhere and stairs leading upwards - likely to...more cells? It was worth a look, at least, and Keith gestured to the stairs at the end of the hall, intending upon starting down the hallway. He barely had another word to say when the silence was broken by someone else.
Keith had though he'd left the door closed, but it must have been ajar - of course, this didn't matter how that another kid appeared in it, stammering and mumbling, then collapsing to the ground. Hesitantly, Keith raised his shotgun. He hadn't been much willing to trust anyone before, and nothing had changed to put him out of that mindset. Cautiously, he pointed backwards with his head to Kallie, telling her to get behind him.
"Who the fuck are ya?"
The rain was pounding down now, and it caused Keith's heart to race. Either this kid had just been through hell and was looking for a sanctuary, or ... well, that had to be it, right?
Right?
Keith scowled. If Darnell was playing - that meant anyone could be, it was probably best to continue being paranoid, as much as he hated to admit it. Glaring at the kid on the ground, he squinted to make out the rise and fall of his back - the kid was still breathing, at least.
"I said, WHO THE FUCK ARE YA? I've got a fuckin' shotty pointed right at ya, so if you can hear me, then fuckin' get up SLOWLY..."
A fucking shotgun...god damn it. Why did I have to pick the pair with a shotgun to pull this shit with?
Coughing loudly as he strained to push himself up, John realized that if didn't pull this act off, he was dead. Quickly he collapsed himself back to the ground.
"Y-you, two should leave this place," He stammered, as he strained once again, to push himself up, "There was some Asian kid, had a gun, chased me through the woods," Riz paused to cough again, "Ripped my shirt, and ended up rolling myself down a hill."
It seemed like he was doing a decent job to him, but John had no clue if it was working or not. He slowly crawled a short distance to the front of one of the cells and used the bars to pull himself up.
"I've been running through the jungle away from him since morning. Harry I think his name is. Killed that french girl. I saw the bastard do it, and when he looked at me, I knew I was fucked. Tire iron versus a gun." Riz coughed again, and feebly reached for the pack he had dragged across the floor with him.
He opened up a bottle of water and took a drink before continuing, "I don't know if he followed me here, but I'd keep that gun of yours trained the door."
Coughing loudly as he strained to push himself up, John realized that if didn't pull this act off, he was dead. Quickly he collapsed himself back to the ground.
"Y-you, two should leave this place," He stammered, as he strained once again, to push himself up, "There was some Asian kid, had a gun, chased me through the woods," Riz paused to cough again, "Ripped my shirt, and ended up rolling myself down a hill."
It seemed like he was doing a decent job to him, but John had no clue if it was working or not. He slowly crawled a short distance to the front of one of the cells and used the bars to pull himself up.
"I've been running through the jungle away from him since morning. Harry I think his name is. Killed that french girl. I saw the bastard do it, and when he looked at me, I knew I was fucked. Tire iron versus a gun." Riz coughed again, and feebly reached for the pack he had dragged across the floor with him.
He opened up a bottle of water and took a drink before continuing, "I don't know if he followed me here, but I'd keep that gun of yours trained the door."
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
((Speaking of rain, I was going to post this yesterday but that was about the time when Typhoon Franck hit. No srsly.
Boxer continued from Day By Day))
Daniel "Boxer" Carvalho was not a jolly giant today, and for many reasons. First, there was the rain. He'd been walking in it for quite a long time and it was taking its toll on his stamina and psyche despite his build. The titan had to constantly brush his hair out of his eyes )and pinch his nose, for reasons soon explained) as he approached the building. The fact that he'd been tranquilized like an elephant several days earlier did not help.
It also did not help his psyche that the other reason Boxer was not happy was because a teammate that he considered very close to him had just killed about the only person outside his team and close relatives that he could have called a "friend," causing Boxer to swear to himself to avenge Eddie on Darnell internally, over and over. The problem with that was that he did not know where to find his target, since Darnell had knocked him out cold and escaped to who-knew-the-fuck-where, leading Boxer pretty much to his current situation - wandering aimlessly about this great deserted landscape. At least he could consider himself lucky his height didn't attract any opportunists so far.
He couldn't make out exactly what the building he was approaching was. However, at his height, he could get a basic idea of what was going on. There appeared to be someone just crawling in, meaning he'd been pursued in this direction.
Were it not for Boxer's height and naturally imposing statue, he would have looked completely harmless as he approached the doorway. He hunched fairly low and slid to one end of the doorway, trying to conceal the bulk of his frame the best he could.
"Anyone in there?...I'm not armed..." he groaned. He'd been wandering for quite a while, so his voice was not as booming as it normally was when he had to speak loudly.
Boxer continued from Day By Day))
Daniel "Boxer" Carvalho was not a jolly giant today, and for many reasons. First, there was the rain. He'd been walking in it for quite a long time and it was taking its toll on his stamina and psyche despite his build. The titan had to constantly brush his hair out of his eyes )and pinch his nose, for reasons soon explained) as he approached the building. The fact that he'd been tranquilized like an elephant several days earlier did not help.
It also did not help his psyche that the other reason Boxer was not happy was because a teammate that he considered very close to him had just killed about the only person outside his team and close relatives that he could have called a "friend," causing Boxer to swear to himself to avenge Eddie on Darnell internally, over and over. The problem with that was that he did not know where to find his target, since Darnell had knocked him out cold and escaped to who-knew-the-fuck-where, leading Boxer pretty much to his current situation - wandering aimlessly about this great deserted landscape. At least he could consider himself lucky his height didn't attract any opportunists so far.
He couldn't make out exactly what the building he was approaching was. However, at his height, he could get a basic idea of what was going on. There appeared to be someone just crawling in, meaning he'd been pursued in this direction.
Were it not for Boxer's height and naturally imposing statue, he would have looked completely harmless as he approached the doorway. He hunched fairly low and slid to one end of the doorway, trying to conceal the bulk of his frame the best he could.
"Anyone in there?...I'm not armed..." he groaned. He'd been wandering for quite a while, so his voice was not as booming as it normally was when he had to speak loudly.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler laZardo. 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.
Well, its not Harry, but thank god this guy is here. Riz thought in relief. Boxer coming through the door with his hulking frame accomplished one thing John had been hoping for. A diversion of attention. John knew Boxer from around the school, talking to him in the halls on a few occasions about random topics.
"Boxer, get in here man. Some fucker with a gun has been chasing me, God knows if he saw me come here...oh and its raining." Riz said with a slight grin.
John coughed a few times and took another drink of water.
Strangely, I don't think this act is going to be kept up.
"Look, I'm going to try to make it to the hospital. Come to think of it, the rain might actually be a good time to move. Like I said watch out for that Harry kid." Riz said as he fumbled his way out the door and around the building, before taking off at sprinter's pace.
((John Rizzolo continued in A Living Dance Upon Dead Minds))
"Boxer, get in here man. Some fucker with a gun has been chasing me, God knows if he saw me come here...oh and its raining." Riz said with a slight grin.
John coughed a few times and took another drink of water.
Strangely, I don't think this act is going to be kept up.
"Look, I'm going to try to make it to the hospital. Come to think of it, the rain might actually be a good time to move. Like I said watch out for that Harry kid." Riz said as he fumbled his way out the door and around the building, before taking off at sprinter's pace.
((John Rizzolo continued in A Living Dance Upon Dead Minds))
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
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EndlessScribe†
- Posts: 5
- Joined: Wed Oct 10, 2018 7:53 pm
Nobody knooows... the trouble I've seen... Evan wound his way through the rain. He looked up at the jail with something like hope - if there was any place likely to be safe, it'd be a jail, right? Bars and walls and shit to keep the psychos out... And there were psychos. He knew. He'd seen them. Nobody knows... my sorrow..." He blinked a bit. The game! The third game. He wasn't playing, though. But plenty of people would. He clutched the little device to his chest, useless as it was, and its battery was nearly out from hours and hours of watching wherever he could catch a break.
Nobody would show up. They hadn't done it the last couple times, they wouldn't show up now. Who's They, anyway, and why are they so damn quotable. He stumbled towards the doorway, spotted a group of people already standing there, tensions high - and for a moment he very nearly turned around and walked into the rain. Then he thought about it for a moment. To hell with that. It was cold out here. He started toward the door. Nobody'd killed anybody yet, even if some of them looked about ready to go for it. What he saw was fear. Fear he could live with. Lots of people were scared. You were scared or you were dead, again and again and once more for the camera. "Hey." He could barely manage a whisper. Fear again. "I got screwed. I got nothing. Can we get this place fixed up? So I got a place to stay? I mean, it's a jail. We barricade it, nobody's getting in. That's the point, right? Keep the crazies out, keep ourselves alive?"
Nobody would show up. They hadn't done it the last couple times, they wouldn't show up now. Who's They, anyway, and why are they so damn quotable. He stumbled towards the doorway, spotted a group of people already standing there, tensions high - and for a moment he very nearly turned around and walked into the rain. Then he thought about it for a moment. To hell with that. It was cold out here. He started toward the door. Nobody'd killed anybody yet, even if some of them looked about ready to go for it. What he saw was fear. Fear he could live with. Lots of people were scared. You were scared or you were dead, again and again and once more for the camera. "Hey." He could barely manage a whisper. Fear again. "I got screwed. I got nothing. Can we get this place fixed up? So I got a place to stay? I mean, it's a jail. We barricade it, nobody's getting in. That's the point, right? Keep the crazies out, keep ourselves alive?"
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Keith Jackson had absolutely nothing to say. Kallie hadn't been saying too much, either, and as their formerly empty safe-haven had become overrun with the students that were undoubtedly going to wander in looking for a place to stay out of the rain, Keith knew that sooner or later, he was going to have to do something. His attitude thusfar had been 'fuck everybody except my friends'. While that still seemed like a good way to put it for now, the list of his friends was steadily decreasing. It was obvious that Darnell was playing - you don't murder three people 'by mistake', and he'd heard nothing from Guy since they'd split up running out of the danger zone.
So what the hell're my options here? I'm really runnin' out of people to trust! An' people wanderin' into jail proally aren't the kind'a folk who I wanna just buddy up to!
Grimacing as he stood at the end of the hallway, and watched John Rizzolo pop in and then out, Keith made a bit of a judgement call on his situation. Sure, it wasn't going to make him any friends, and it would probably piss a whole hell of a lot of people off, but...
...when you're a strapping, seriously pissed-off football player who's got a big fucking shotgun strapped to your chest, people aren't generally going to argue with you unless they've got a death wish.
Just like that psychopath back at the forest...attacking me with a fuckin' death wish...and I granted it...how many more lives'm I gonna havta end before I manage to get out or get killed? Til I can get Kal out...
Shrugging, Keith stepped into the light, and held the shotgun at chest level with the newcomers standing in the doorway. One looked like a vaguely familiar student, but at this point - it really didn't matter. Friends weren't friends anymore, because anyone could stick a knife in your back. Maybe not Kallie, not Guy, and maybe not Izzy - his friend from back at the woods, but anyone else? Who knew. As Keith stepped more into the light, he saw who he was looking at. It was hard not do from his stature. The large nature of the person inside the doorway meant it could only be Boxer Carvalho. A threat, for sure. There was a second kid who'd just walked in, obviously not expecting to find anyone who'd be the least bit antagonistic.
Sorry to burst yer bubble, kid...
"HEY! I don't mean to come off like a prick here, but right now, me and the shotty here 'ave come along to letchya know that from the bottom of my heart, y'all need to go ahead and go fuck yourselves. The jail's not accepting visitors right now, and I'm REALLY not in the fucking mood to deal with any kind of bullshit! I've already shot someone who tried to fuck around with me, so y'all have to just turn the fuck around and get the FUCK out of here!"
Keith was pissed, sure. It had something to do with his shoulder wound, and the fact that he was soaked, Kallie was obviously pissed, they were in a game to kill everyone - yadda yadda whatever. But these people, who MAY or MAY NOT be trying to kill him? Fuck that. Keith was ready to shoot if they decided not to listen to him, because quite frankly, he was just too pissed off to care. Bracing himself, he waited to see what the two in front of him (and Kallie behind him, for that matter) would do.
Man, just walk away...just walk the fuck away...
So what the hell're my options here? I'm really runnin' out of people to trust! An' people wanderin' into jail proally aren't the kind'a folk who I wanna just buddy up to!
Grimacing as he stood at the end of the hallway, and watched John Rizzolo pop in and then out, Keith made a bit of a judgement call on his situation. Sure, it wasn't going to make him any friends, and it would probably piss a whole hell of a lot of people off, but...
...when you're a strapping, seriously pissed-off football player who's got a big fucking shotgun strapped to your chest, people aren't generally going to argue with you unless they've got a death wish.
Just like that psychopath back at the forest...attacking me with a fuckin' death wish...and I granted it...how many more lives'm I gonna havta end before I manage to get out or get killed? Til I can get Kal out...
Shrugging, Keith stepped into the light, and held the shotgun at chest level with the newcomers standing in the doorway. One looked like a vaguely familiar student, but at this point - it really didn't matter. Friends weren't friends anymore, because anyone could stick a knife in your back. Maybe not Kallie, not Guy, and maybe not Izzy - his friend from back at the woods, but anyone else? Who knew. As Keith stepped more into the light, he saw who he was looking at. It was hard not do from his stature. The large nature of the person inside the doorway meant it could only be Boxer Carvalho. A threat, for sure. There was a second kid who'd just walked in, obviously not expecting to find anyone who'd be the least bit antagonistic.
Sorry to burst yer bubble, kid...
"HEY! I don't mean to come off like a prick here, but right now, me and the shotty here 'ave come along to letchya know that from the bottom of my heart, y'all need to go ahead and go fuck yourselves. The jail's not accepting visitors right now, and I'm REALLY not in the fucking mood to deal with any kind of bullshit! I've already shot someone who tried to fuck around with me, so y'all have to just turn the fuck around and get the FUCK out of here!"
Keith was pissed, sure. It had something to do with his shoulder wound, and the fact that he was soaked, Kallie was obviously pissed, they were in a game to kill everyone - yadda yadda whatever. But these people, who MAY or MAY NOT be trying to kill him? Fuck that. Keith was ready to shoot if they decided not to listen to him, because quite frankly, he was just too pissed off to care. Bracing himself, he waited to see what the two in front of him (and Kallie behind him, for that matter) would do.
Man, just walk away...just walk the fuck away...
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EndlessScribe†
- Posts: 5
- Joined: Wed Oct 10, 2018 7:53 pm
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck fuck fuck fucking "FUCK!" Evan nearly threw the DVD player to the ground, glaring. "Don't get it do you, I know how this ends, every damn time. Shit like this doesn't work. You keep turning everybody out eventually somebody's gonna fuck everything up. Best thing you can do is have so many people around they've gotta go through someone else first! I don't wanna hurt anybody man, we need fucking help! Shotgun's only gonna last so long. We close this place up tight, we're safe from everything but each other and Mr. Danya. I'm willing to fucking risk it. What've I got to lose? I got a goddamn DVD player. You want it, you can have it. You can have this sick game too, seasons one and two, gold collector's edition, you know that? Big goddamn money. I don't wanna hurt anybody, but you're gonna fuck everything all up!" His mismatched eyes flickered over the group.
"Come on, man." His voice mellowed. "I don't want to hurt nobody. All I've got is the player, I swear, I couldn't hurt a fly, man. Here. You know what, let the big scary guy pat me down, make sure. I'll strip. I will. You can be totally sure I'm empty-handed. You've got the shotgun, man, this is totally your call. But we need to HELP each other. We can't go all crazy like this. We start shooting people who aren't playing, we're no worse than those crazy fucks who're having fun with this. The kid with the mask. That what you want? We've gotta trust each other. Gotta board this place up. Man, help me..."
"Come on, man." His voice mellowed. "I don't want to hurt nobody. All I've got is the player, I swear, I couldn't hurt a fly, man. Here. You know what, let the big scary guy pat me down, make sure. I'll strip. I will. You can be totally sure I'm empty-handed. You've got the shotgun, man, this is totally your call. But we need to HELP each other. We can't go all crazy like this. We start shooting people who aren't playing, we're no worse than those crazy fucks who're having fun with this. The kid with the mask. That what you want? We've gotta trust each other. Gotta board this place up. Man, help me..."
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Paranoia Man†
- Posts: 12
- Joined: Wed Oct 10, 2018 7:49 pm
John Cox was searching aimlessly for shelter from the rain when the jailhouse came into view. He ran towards it as fast has his exhausted legs would carry him until he heard a pleading voice coming from inside. It was the first time he had encountered any other students on the island. He attempted his best "dive-and-roll" in order to hide next to the door and continue to listen. Unfortunately, watching action movies had not actually taught him how to perform such a maneuver and he ended up knocking the door open with his head, leaving a small lump.
"Ow."
He got to his feet and rubbed his head. His eyes slowly panned over everyone in the room, finally resting on the shotgun in Keith's hands.
Crap, I interrupted a dramatic moment.
"Umm...Hi. I know it's kind of crowded in here, but it's wet outside...people are killing each other, and, well, I guess you know what's going on..." He muttered to no one in particular, his eyes downcast. "I heard you talking. I'm not playing the game, either, I just need someplace to hide. So, whaddaya say?" he said, looking at Keith. "You're the one with the gun, so I guess you're in charge. I'll strip, too, if you want me to--I mean, not that you'd want me to, but--I'll shuddup now..."
"Ow."
He got to his feet and rubbed his head. His eyes slowly panned over everyone in the room, finally resting on the shotgun in Keith's hands.
Crap, I interrupted a dramatic moment.
"Umm...Hi. I know it's kind of crowded in here, but it's wet outside...people are killing each other, and, well, I guess you know what's going on..." He muttered to no one in particular, his eyes downcast. "I heard you talking. I'm not playing the game, either, I just need someplace to hide. So, whaddaya say?" he said, looking at Keith. "You're the one with the gun, so I guess you're in charge. I'll strip, too, if you want me to--I mean, not that you'd want me to, but--I'll shuddup now..."
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Suddenly, it was as if everyone started to flock around Boxer Carvalho into the jailhouse, looking to stay dry. If his thoughts were focused on it, Boxer would have probably blamed himself, as the titan stood out like a sore thumb against all but the tallest cover. He might as well have been wearing glowing beacons on his back. Of course, cover was something Boxer was quick to find, sliding away from the doorway when he noticed that the athlete that stepped into view - Keith, no less - was wielding a shotgun.
"I'm not here to fight you, Keith! I'm just looking for someone!" Boxer called out from the edge of the doorway, "If you'd like to help me look for him, that's fine! Just tell me if you've...seen Darnell Butler!"
Even Boxer could sense the anger that had seeped into the mention of those last three words as he tried to slide his long hair from his eyes as the rain slid it back. When it came to trusting words, what Boxer said was pretty much what he really meant, inner implications be damned.
"I'm not here to fight you, Keith! I'm just looking for someone!" Boxer called out from the edge of the doorway, "If you'd like to help me look for him, that's fine! Just tell me if you've...seen Darnell Butler!"
Even Boxer could sense the anger that had seeped into the mention of those last three words as he tried to slide his long hair from his eyes as the rain slid it back. When it came to trusting words, what Boxer said was pretty much what he really meant, inner implications be damned.
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OOC: Darnell continued from Day By Day. So sorry to come in when you're already so swamped with people, Adam. I didn't think the thread would get that crowded when I originally started this post.
IC:
Did you hear the announcement, criminal? Three people! You killed three people, bastard, and you were one of the only ones to kill today! Not only are you a murderer, almost nobody else is! How does that feel, you wretched scum? Tell me, sinner, HOW DOES IT FEEL?!
Ever since he had left Boxer unconscious in the rain, Darnell had not had a moment of peace. True, he had not encountered anyone or anything in the jungle, nor had he run into any traps, in fact he was fine other than the bandage wrapped around his head, the result of him having taken a hard fall in the middle of the night and cracking his head on a rock, and the smaller bandage on the side of his neck (after an hour or so of walking, he noticed that Dan Brent's spear had given him a small cut that he'd been unaware of at the time, having only found out about it when he brought his hand to the side of his neck due to an itch and it was bloody when he brought it back), but his own thoughts were crueler than any bullet or sword could be. He had taken lives. Three people were dead, because of him. No matter how he tried to justify it, if he had not been at the airfield Simon Wood, Daniel Brent, and Eduardo Trinidad-Villa would be alive now. Murder was a sin, a crime, and universally recognized by all civilized peoples as the most evil thing an individual could do. "Thou shalt not kill."
He had, though. He'd killed, and as if that weren't enough he'd followed it up by beating the crap out of one of his teammates, one of the very people he had been seeking out. It wasn't right, he had thought as he moved through the jungle, he was supposed to lead everyone off the island to safety, bring them all home, not kill them and beat them up. How dare he? What gave him the right to do such a thing? The more rational part of his mind insisted that it was out of his hands, Simon had been an accident, and both Dan and Eduardo had attacked him. It was him or them, there was no way both parties would walk away alive in either case, neither of Darnell's opponents would have allowed it.
Doesn't matter, I still shouldn't have killed them.
Of course, if there was anything other than his conscience that had been pounding him and refusing to let up since the announcement, it was the weather. Just before the announcement at the beginning of the day, the merely overcast weather had turned into a torrential downpour, sheets of rain falling almost endlessly, soaking everything and turning the ground slick with mud. At first it had been a relief, especially since under the cover of the jungle it only reached him enough to ward off the heat that had been so relentless until then. After a few hours, though, when the rainfall became so heavy even the thick jungle canopy couldn't keep most of it at bay, the rain had become even more miserable than the heat. Instead of sweat soaking his clothing, it was plain water, and when earlier his clothes were merely damp now both his shirt and pants were soaked almost completely through.
The temperature had rapidly gone from nice and cool with the rain to just plain cold, and the misery that caused was compounded when, realizing that he hadn't brought any changes of clothes for the trip on the assumption he wouldn't need any other than the bathing suit he brought, he'd been forced to take off his shirt and put it in his pack so it would dry. That felt even worse, because the water was hitting his bare skin instead of cloth and therefore he felt even colder, which influenced him to refuse to take off his pants and go in his shorts. The rain as it was, there'd be no way for him to make a fire like he did the night before to keep himself warm, so he'd had to tough it out like that until either the rain stopped, he found shelter, or his shirt dried enough for him to put it back on. On top of that, the soles of his favourite Nike sneakers were now covered in the mud that parts of the jungle floor and trails had turned into. Not to mention that it was annoying to have raindrops fall on his head every second or so, especially when he was trying to think.
So overall, he was tired, cold, hungry, thirsty, his clothes were soaked, the quagmire that the storm turned the jungle ground to was all over his favourite pair of shoes, there was a part of his mind so plagued by guilt that his thoughts had become insults to himself and demands that he commit suicide, he had the vaguest suspicion that someone was following him (though every time he looked behind him nothing was there) and, if the occasional sneezing and the feeling of congestion that was starting to set in were any indication, the rain was starting to give him something of a cold. He'd tried to get to sleep before the announcement, but that had been a total failure. He'd only gotten a few minutes' rest before he found himself assaulted by mental images of the airfield. His sword slashing through flesh, the awful wet sound that came from inflicting the fatal wounds he had inflicted, blood splashing on the runway, Dan Brent's head rolling across the ground, Eduardo's final smug grin, Simon's gasped apology, it was all rushing into his head too fast for him to take it. He'd woken with a sudden start, and for quite a while after couldn't bring himself to get up. Eventually he had kept moving, though.
After that, he had never tried to go to sleep again, the nightmare far too vivid for his tastes. In fact, he'd been going after his way to keep himself awake, and it was taking its toll on Darnell, who had now almost been up two nights straight. His eyes hurt, so did his gut, and he kept stopping to yawn, trying to get more oxygen in. His vision was blurring, too, helped both by his eyes occasionally closing involuntarily and the fact that every once in a while they'd brim up with tears which he had to fight down. Sometimes he had a hard time keeping his head up, and his pace was sluggish and off balance, as he'd occasionally stumble and almost fall. He found it very hard to care about any of that, though. Every time the announcements came on, a feeling of cold dread came over him, not because of the fact that his name was on the last two, but just the fear of not knowing who would be listed among the dead. It seemed that the game was specifically picking off his friends one by one, and he almost found himself desperately hoping that the names of his closest friends wouldn't come up.
At least Kallie, Keith and Guy are still alive...
That thought had kept him going through the last few announcements, that the three that he called his best friends in the entire school weren't on Danya's list of the dead. It had hurt enough when Evelyn and Trey died, he had no idea how he'd react if he lost them, too. He wanted to be sick, imagining Keith with his head blown off, or Guy lying gutted in a ditch somewhere on the side of the trail, or Kallie with horrible wounds all over her body, her ash blonde hair matted with blood, or finding his teammates dead, their corpses contorted in all sorts of sick conditions, some even being eaten by animals. He had spent his entire game looking for them, but every time he found someone they attacked him. Really, he almost wanted to say "fuck it" and give up, as it was wearing him down so much, but he couldn't forgive himself if he did that. No, he had to get them off the island.
Just as the day was starting to lighten, early morning coming to the island, Darnell broke through the treeline and found himself faced by the jailhouse. Having never come across the small two story building, he was a bit surprised, especially since he approached at an angle other than the main entrance (basically, he was facing a wall instead of the door). Part of him knew that it wouldn't be a good idea to call out to whoever was inside, especially after the announcements (what a punch in the gut those had been, he'd have to remember to give Danya a punch in the face to make up for it), but his exhausted body took over on the impulse regardless, cupping his hands to his mouth and leaving the sword sheathed.
"Yo! This is Darnell, anyone in there? I'm looking for someone, and I need shelter anyway, can I come inside? Look, I know what the ann-" his call would be interrupted as he sneezed loudly, quickly covering his mouth out of reflex. Damn cold. When that had ended, he continued again, the congested quality of his voice not overriding the volume he spoke at, "I know what the announcements say. That I killed three people, that I'm playing the game. Well...I'm not gonna lie, I did kill. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't trust me, since three people are dead because of me, but I'm not playing this damn game! Simon was an accident, he jumped me and got stabbed during the struggle. As for Dan Brent and Eduardo...they both attacked me, man, tried to kill me! I didn't want to kill them, but if I hadn't, I'd be DEAD right now! I've even got a cut on my neck from when Brent almost impaled me with a fucking spear! I'm only human, man, if someone tries to kill me I'm gonna try even harder to stay alive. Or do you think I should've just sat there and let them end my life?"
At first, there was no response, and Darnell chuckled as he realized there might not be anyone inside, in which case he looked like a total loon because he was talking to a fucking building, but this just made him say more.
"I don't want any trouble, guys, and I'm assuming there are people in there because otherwise I'm totally nuts for trying to converse with a jail, I just want to find some shelter and preferably my friends too. Tell you what, man, I'm just going to sit here, in the rain, until you say it's okay to come in. At least tell me if you've seen Guy Rapide, Keith Jackson, Kallie Majors, or any of the football players anywhere, if you decide you don't want me here."
And with that, Darnell Butler sat down on the rain soaked ground, and waited.
IC:
Did you hear the announcement, criminal? Three people! You killed three people, bastard, and you were one of the only ones to kill today! Not only are you a murderer, almost nobody else is! How does that feel, you wretched scum? Tell me, sinner, HOW DOES IT FEEL?!
Ever since he had left Boxer unconscious in the rain, Darnell had not had a moment of peace. True, he had not encountered anyone or anything in the jungle, nor had he run into any traps, in fact he was fine other than the bandage wrapped around his head, the result of him having taken a hard fall in the middle of the night and cracking his head on a rock, and the smaller bandage on the side of his neck (after an hour or so of walking, he noticed that Dan Brent's spear had given him a small cut that he'd been unaware of at the time, having only found out about it when he brought his hand to the side of his neck due to an itch and it was bloody when he brought it back), but his own thoughts were crueler than any bullet or sword could be. He had taken lives. Three people were dead, because of him. No matter how he tried to justify it, if he had not been at the airfield Simon Wood, Daniel Brent, and Eduardo Trinidad-Villa would be alive now. Murder was a sin, a crime, and universally recognized by all civilized peoples as the most evil thing an individual could do. "Thou shalt not kill."
He had, though. He'd killed, and as if that weren't enough he'd followed it up by beating the crap out of one of his teammates, one of the very people he had been seeking out. It wasn't right, he had thought as he moved through the jungle, he was supposed to lead everyone off the island to safety, bring them all home, not kill them and beat them up. How dare he? What gave him the right to do such a thing? The more rational part of his mind insisted that it was out of his hands, Simon had been an accident, and both Dan and Eduardo had attacked him. It was him or them, there was no way both parties would walk away alive in either case, neither of Darnell's opponents would have allowed it.
Doesn't matter, I still shouldn't have killed them.
Of course, if there was anything other than his conscience that had been pounding him and refusing to let up since the announcement, it was the weather. Just before the announcement at the beginning of the day, the merely overcast weather had turned into a torrential downpour, sheets of rain falling almost endlessly, soaking everything and turning the ground slick with mud. At first it had been a relief, especially since under the cover of the jungle it only reached him enough to ward off the heat that had been so relentless until then. After a few hours, though, when the rainfall became so heavy even the thick jungle canopy couldn't keep most of it at bay, the rain had become even more miserable than the heat. Instead of sweat soaking his clothing, it was plain water, and when earlier his clothes were merely damp now both his shirt and pants were soaked almost completely through.
The temperature had rapidly gone from nice and cool with the rain to just plain cold, and the misery that caused was compounded when, realizing that he hadn't brought any changes of clothes for the trip on the assumption he wouldn't need any other than the bathing suit he brought, he'd been forced to take off his shirt and put it in his pack so it would dry. That felt even worse, because the water was hitting his bare skin instead of cloth and therefore he felt even colder, which influenced him to refuse to take off his pants and go in his shorts. The rain as it was, there'd be no way for him to make a fire like he did the night before to keep himself warm, so he'd had to tough it out like that until either the rain stopped, he found shelter, or his shirt dried enough for him to put it back on. On top of that, the soles of his favourite Nike sneakers were now covered in the mud that parts of the jungle floor and trails had turned into. Not to mention that it was annoying to have raindrops fall on his head every second or so, especially when he was trying to think.
So overall, he was tired, cold, hungry, thirsty, his clothes were soaked, the quagmire that the storm turned the jungle ground to was all over his favourite pair of shoes, there was a part of his mind so plagued by guilt that his thoughts had become insults to himself and demands that he commit suicide, he had the vaguest suspicion that someone was following him (though every time he looked behind him nothing was there) and, if the occasional sneezing and the feeling of congestion that was starting to set in were any indication, the rain was starting to give him something of a cold. He'd tried to get to sleep before the announcement, but that had been a total failure. He'd only gotten a few minutes' rest before he found himself assaulted by mental images of the airfield. His sword slashing through flesh, the awful wet sound that came from inflicting the fatal wounds he had inflicted, blood splashing on the runway, Dan Brent's head rolling across the ground, Eduardo's final smug grin, Simon's gasped apology, it was all rushing into his head too fast for him to take it. He'd woken with a sudden start, and for quite a while after couldn't bring himself to get up. Eventually he had kept moving, though.
After that, he had never tried to go to sleep again, the nightmare far too vivid for his tastes. In fact, he'd been going after his way to keep himself awake, and it was taking its toll on Darnell, who had now almost been up two nights straight. His eyes hurt, so did his gut, and he kept stopping to yawn, trying to get more oxygen in. His vision was blurring, too, helped both by his eyes occasionally closing involuntarily and the fact that every once in a while they'd brim up with tears which he had to fight down. Sometimes he had a hard time keeping his head up, and his pace was sluggish and off balance, as he'd occasionally stumble and almost fall. He found it very hard to care about any of that, though. Every time the announcements came on, a feeling of cold dread came over him, not because of the fact that his name was on the last two, but just the fear of not knowing who would be listed among the dead. It seemed that the game was specifically picking off his friends one by one, and he almost found himself desperately hoping that the names of his closest friends wouldn't come up.
At least Kallie, Keith and Guy are still alive...
That thought had kept him going through the last few announcements, that the three that he called his best friends in the entire school weren't on Danya's list of the dead. It had hurt enough when Evelyn and Trey died, he had no idea how he'd react if he lost them, too. He wanted to be sick, imagining Keith with his head blown off, or Guy lying gutted in a ditch somewhere on the side of the trail, or Kallie with horrible wounds all over her body, her ash blonde hair matted with blood, or finding his teammates dead, their corpses contorted in all sorts of sick conditions, some even being eaten by animals. He had spent his entire game looking for them, but every time he found someone they attacked him. Really, he almost wanted to say "fuck it" and give up, as it was wearing him down so much, but he couldn't forgive himself if he did that. No, he had to get them off the island.
Just as the day was starting to lighten, early morning coming to the island, Darnell broke through the treeline and found himself faced by the jailhouse. Having never come across the small two story building, he was a bit surprised, especially since he approached at an angle other than the main entrance (basically, he was facing a wall instead of the door). Part of him knew that it wouldn't be a good idea to call out to whoever was inside, especially after the announcements (what a punch in the gut those had been, he'd have to remember to give Danya a punch in the face to make up for it), but his exhausted body took over on the impulse regardless, cupping his hands to his mouth and leaving the sword sheathed.
"Yo! This is Darnell, anyone in there? I'm looking for someone, and I need shelter anyway, can I come inside? Look, I know what the ann-" his call would be interrupted as he sneezed loudly, quickly covering his mouth out of reflex. Damn cold. When that had ended, he continued again, the congested quality of his voice not overriding the volume he spoke at, "I know what the announcements say. That I killed three people, that I'm playing the game. Well...I'm not gonna lie, I did kill. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't trust me, since three people are dead because of me, but I'm not playing this damn game! Simon was an accident, he jumped me and got stabbed during the struggle. As for Dan Brent and Eduardo...they both attacked me, man, tried to kill me! I didn't want to kill them, but if I hadn't, I'd be DEAD right now! I've even got a cut on my neck from when Brent almost impaled me with a fucking spear! I'm only human, man, if someone tries to kill me I'm gonna try even harder to stay alive. Or do you think I should've just sat there and let them end my life?"
At first, there was no response, and Darnell chuckled as he realized there might not be anyone inside, in which case he looked like a total loon because he was talking to a fucking building, but this just made him say more.
"I don't want any trouble, guys, and I'm assuming there are people in there because otherwise I'm totally nuts for trying to converse with a jail, I just want to find some shelter and preferably my friends too. Tell you what, man, I'm just going to sit here, in the rain, until you say it's okay to come in. At least tell me if you've seen Guy Rapide, Keith Jackson, Kallie Majors, or any of the football players anywhere, if you decide you don't want me here."
And with that, Darnell Butler sat down on the rain soaked ground, and waited.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.
It was Mexican Standoff time.
Keith blinked to himself a few times, and could barely believe it himself. The one problem with this so-called 'Mexican Standoff'?
He was the only one with a gun.
Kallie was behind him, she'd barely said anything, which likely meant that she was exhausted and needed some time to rest and recover from her various experiences and any wounds she may have sustained. Of course, in their current situation? Keith knew it was unlikely. The problem that lay here was that it wasn't actually the other students that were the aggressors of this entire situation. He knew they all likely would have been perfectly content to sit down and share the jail cell. Instead though, the person who was really waving the gun around and being the insane-looking one was Keith himself. Of course, that was how it`d have to be for the time being. Until they found Guy and his girl, and dealt with Darnell...
...the thought chilled him to the bones. Thanks to the announcements, it seemed as though his friend, his close buddy...it seemed as though he was playing. Three kills to his name in three different situations, and Keith had almost refused to believe it at first. It seemed impossible, but there it was, staring him in the face. It was oddly hypocritical of him, being as though he'd also killed someone, but his had been totally in self-defense, and his shoulder wound that ached explained that quite nicely. He could believe Darnell killing once in self-defense, but thrice?
As much as I hate to believe it, I just don't see how it could be much else...
He'd surpressed his own kill as much as he could, for fear of a breakdown or a loss of his own control, because Kallie, Guy...they needed him to be as strong as he could. He had the weapon, he had the power, and he was going to be the reason they'd get out okay.
As he debated what to say next, he was surprised as one of the kids made an impassioned plea for Keith to not play. His ramblings seemed insane, and he tried to rush in, presumably to board the place up. Keith raised the shotgun a little more. He didn't want to have to shoot the kid, but he was trying his patience, which was essentially gone to begin with.
"Man, what did I just tell ya? Stop fuckin' moving and get the fuck outta here, or I'm gonna fuckin' shoot ya. An' seriously, bud? I have no qualms about it. I don't know ya, and at this point? I don't wanna."
This had been very quickly followed by another arrival who'd slipped in, starting to talk before realizing that Keith held them all at bay with a formidable shotgun. He started babbling about finding a place to hide, and stripping? Keith was getting antsy. He didn't want a huge group, he just wanted to stick with Kallie, and if they could find Guy and Izzy, great. Otherwise? Fuck everyone else. Darnell included, especially if he'd turned crazy. Obviously being new, Keith reiterated it to him.
"Shut up. I don't want anyone strippin', especially not in this fuckin' sausage-fest. I guess you missed the fuckin' memo, but this hiding spot? For the time being, it's mine, and it's closed. Like I've been tellin' these folks, please fuck off - an' I'm bein' nice."
Finally, Boxer spoke up again, saying something about finding Darnell, with audible anger in his voice. That was just wonderful. Boxer wanted to do some sort of hurtful things to Darnell for whatever reason, and Keith doubted the veracity of his claim to not be playing. Keith now pointed the shotgun at Boxer.
"Darnell, eh? Yeah, I'm lookin' for him too, but I'd say it's pro'ally for a whole different reason than you are. Y'think I'm an idiot, bud? I'm not gonna' help ya' find the guy just so you can try and fuckin' kill him. In fact, Darnell, if he's playin', killin', whatever...he's my brother, and I'm not lettin' him die without explainin' to me just what the fuck's goin' on with him these days. So you, out of everyone, should get the fuck out, just before I shoot ya' and save Darnell the trouble..."
It was risky, but Keith couldn't help it. Darnell and him had known each other for awhile, and Keith couldn't believe Darnell to be playing, even though the announcements said otherwise. Obviously, if he ran into Darnell here, things would be anything but happy, because if Darnell didn't have a good enough explanation for what had happened, Keith knew he'd probably have to point and pull the trigger.
And then, he didn't know if he'd be able to live with himself anymore.
Darnell was a buddy, a friend, and to kill a friend? It was like that crazy kid had been rambling on about. They'd win. Head honcho Danya or whatever his fuckin' name was would succeed in getting them to kill all of their friends.
We can't let that happen.
Before he could say anything else, a voice cut through from outside - and as fate would have it, the voice identified itself as Darnell Butler.
Aw, fuck.
The shit was about to hit the fan.
Grimacing, Keith sighed and shook his head a bit. His expression was pained, but angry. Things had changed, and now it was time to figure out just what the hell was going on.
"Alright, shit's fuckin' changed, folks! Instead of gettin' the fuck out? Nobody fuckin' moves. Everyone's gonna stay right where they are, 'cause I think it's time for some explainin' around here, wouldn't ya say, Boxer? Y'seem a little fuckin' pissed, and I think it's time to find out why!"
He aimed the gun again at the two other guys who'd been caught in what was likely to become an unfortunate situation, and nodded at the both of them.
"Like I said. Nobody moves, or I start shootin' people. Nothing personal though, I just have some bones to pick, an' all."
Finally, Keith turned to Kallie.
"Look, I don't know how this is gonna' turn out, but I wantchya to know I've got your back, no matter what happens, a'ight? An' uhh, there's a few things I needa get off my chest, wh-"
Keith was interrupted by another call out from Darnell, which caused his attention to focus on the door, shotgun pointed at the space between him and it - and by proxy, pointing at the other three individuals. Shrugging at Kallie, he finished his sentence and then called back out to Darnell outside.
"We'll finish this later, I promise. ALRIGHT DARNELL! C'MON IN! We're havin' a party in here, and it's in your honour! Got the refreshments and the booze, and we just need the guest of honour! Whatdya say, bud? It's Keith, if ya couldn't tell! Kal's in here with me!"
Keith's tone sounded jovial, but his expression was grim. His shotgun was pointed straight at the door and the other occupants, and he knew that in this close proximity, if he had to fire, there'd be collateral damage. This was a bad situation, and Keith couldn't help wondering if he was about to cross a line that he'd never be able to come back from.
I guess time'll tell, won't it?
Pensively, he held his breath and waited for Darnell to enter the jailhouse.
Keith blinked to himself a few times, and could barely believe it himself. The one problem with this so-called 'Mexican Standoff'?
He was the only one with a gun.
Kallie was behind him, she'd barely said anything, which likely meant that she was exhausted and needed some time to rest and recover from her various experiences and any wounds she may have sustained. Of course, in their current situation? Keith knew it was unlikely. The problem that lay here was that it wasn't actually the other students that were the aggressors of this entire situation. He knew they all likely would have been perfectly content to sit down and share the jail cell. Instead though, the person who was really waving the gun around and being the insane-looking one was Keith himself. Of course, that was how it`d have to be for the time being. Until they found Guy and his girl, and dealt with Darnell...
...the thought chilled him to the bones. Thanks to the announcements, it seemed as though his friend, his close buddy...it seemed as though he was playing. Three kills to his name in three different situations, and Keith had almost refused to believe it at first. It seemed impossible, but there it was, staring him in the face. It was oddly hypocritical of him, being as though he'd also killed someone, but his had been totally in self-defense, and his shoulder wound that ached explained that quite nicely. He could believe Darnell killing once in self-defense, but thrice?
As much as I hate to believe it, I just don't see how it could be much else...
He'd surpressed his own kill as much as he could, for fear of a breakdown or a loss of his own control, because Kallie, Guy...they needed him to be as strong as he could. He had the weapon, he had the power, and he was going to be the reason they'd get out okay.
As he debated what to say next, he was surprised as one of the kids made an impassioned plea for Keith to not play. His ramblings seemed insane, and he tried to rush in, presumably to board the place up. Keith raised the shotgun a little more. He didn't want to have to shoot the kid, but he was trying his patience, which was essentially gone to begin with.
"Man, what did I just tell ya? Stop fuckin' moving and get the fuck outta here, or I'm gonna fuckin' shoot ya. An' seriously, bud? I have no qualms about it. I don't know ya, and at this point? I don't wanna."
This had been very quickly followed by another arrival who'd slipped in, starting to talk before realizing that Keith held them all at bay with a formidable shotgun. He started babbling about finding a place to hide, and stripping? Keith was getting antsy. He didn't want a huge group, he just wanted to stick with Kallie, and if they could find Guy and Izzy, great. Otherwise? Fuck everyone else. Darnell included, especially if he'd turned crazy. Obviously being new, Keith reiterated it to him.
"Shut up. I don't want anyone strippin', especially not in this fuckin' sausage-fest. I guess you missed the fuckin' memo, but this hiding spot? For the time being, it's mine, and it's closed. Like I've been tellin' these folks, please fuck off - an' I'm bein' nice."
Finally, Boxer spoke up again, saying something about finding Darnell, with audible anger in his voice. That was just wonderful. Boxer wanted to do some sort of hurtful things to Darnell for whatever reason, and Keith doubted the veracity of his claim to not be playing. Keith now pointed the shotgun at Boxer.
"Darnell, eh? Yeah, I'm lookin' for him too, but I'd say it's pro'ally for a whole different reason than you are. Y'think I'm an idiot, bud? I'm not gonna' help ya' find the guy just so you can try and fuckin' kill him. In fact, Darnell, if he's playin', killin', whatever...he's my brother, and I'm not lettin' him die without explainin' to me just what the fuck's goin' on with him these days. So you, out of everyone, should get the fuck out, just before I shoot ya' and save Darnell the trouble..."
It was risky, but Keith couldn't help it. Darnell and him had known each other for awhile, and Keith couldn't believe Darnell to be playing, even though the announcements said otherwise. Obviously, if he ran into Darnell here, things would be anything but happy, because if Darnell didn't have a good enough explanation for what had happened, Keith knew he'd probably have to point and pull the trigger.
And then, he didn't know if he'd be able to live with himself anymore.
Darnell was a buddy, a friend, and to kill a friend? It was like that crazy kid had been rambling on about. They'd win. Head honcho Danya or whatever his fuckin' name was would succeed in getting them to kill all of their friends.
We can't let that happen.
Before he could say anything else, a voice cut through from outside - and as fate would have it, the voice identified itself as Darnell Butler.
Aw, fuck.
The shit was about to hit the fan.
Grimacing, Keith sighed and shook his head a bit. His expression was pained, but angry. Things had changed, and now it was time to figure out just what the hell was going on.
"Alright, shit's fuckin' changed, folks! Instead of gettin' the fuck out? Nobody fuckin' moves. Everyone's gonna stay right where they are, 'cause I think it's time for some explainin' around here, wouldn't ya say, Boxer? Y'seem a little fuckin' pissed, and I think it's time to find out why!"
He aimed the gun again at the two other guys who'd been caught in what was likely to become an unfortunate situation, and nodded at the both of them.
"Like I said. Nobody moves, or I start shootin' people. Nothing personal though, I just have some bones to pick, an' all."
Finally, Keith turned to Kallie.
"Look, I don't know how this is gonna' turn out, but I wantchya to know I've got your back, no matter what happens, a'ight? An' uhh, there's a few things I needa get off my chest, wh-"
Keith was interrupted by another call out from Darnell, which caused his attention to focus on the door, shotgun pointed at the space between him and it - and by proxy, pointing at the other three individuals. Shrugging at Kallie, he finished his sentence and then called back out to Darnell outside.
"We'll finish this later, I promise. ALRIGHT DARNELL! C'MON IN! We're havin' a party in here, and it's in your honour! Got the refreshments and the booze, and we just need the guest of honour! Whatdya say, bud? It's Keith, if ya couldn't tell! Kal's in here with me!"
Keith's tone sounded jovial, but his expression was grim. His shotgun was pointed straight at the door and the other occupants, and he knew that in this close proximity, if he had to fire, there'd be collateral damage. This was a bad situation, and Keith couldn't help wondering if he was about to cross a line that he'd never be able to come back from.
I guess time'll tell, won't it?
Pensively, he held his breath and waited for Darnell to enter the jailhouse.
"Holy shit, Keith?! Haha, thank God, man, I thought I'd never see you again! Is Kal okay? No, don't answer that, I wanna see her for myself. God damn it's good to hear from you! First good news since day one! I'll be right there, just give me a sec! Heh, was just starting to get comfortable."
For once something was going right for Darnell, a phenomenon that had pretty much been alien to him since the first day of this piece of shit game. As he heard Keith Jackson's seemingly jovial tone call back out to him, telling him to come inside, he couldn't help the wide grin that started to crack across his face. After he'd gotten separated from Kallie and Guy at the cottage, he thought he'd never find any of his friends again, and here he had fallen right into their laps, more or less. They were safe, and he had found them. Overcome with elation and struck with a surge of adrenaline from the excitement, he bolted up from his seated position and more or less ran around to the front of the jailhouse, his desire to finally reunite with Keith and Kallie overriding the previous lethargy. It had even leaked into his voice a bit, whereas his previous call had been loud and sincere it was still congested and listless, his fatigue showing, but only an idiot could hear Darnell's reply to Keith and not instantly know just how glad he was.
Hey, wait a second, you can't just rush in there! You have to think about this!
By the time that thought kicked in he had almost reached the doorway and practically charged in, though at the pace he was making that meant it occurred to him only a few seconds after he started his run, but it caused him to stop in his tracks. It was almost six days into the game, could he really afford to be that careless? After all, almost literally everyone he had met had attacked him at one point or another. Keith was 100%, bar none, his best friend, possibly excluding Kallie (and with her, he really had no idea what his stance was, his heart and mind nearly tore themselves apart every time he tried to think of an answer beyond "I don't know if I love her or just think of her as a best friend or sister"). Fuck, they were like brothers. Still, as hard as it was to think it, it was very possible that it was a trap.
Come on, man, don't think that way. If you can't trust people who're almost family to you, who can you trust? Can't let Danya win by making you think that way!
Darnell couldn't help but sigh a little at this conflict of interests. No matter what it was, no obstacle had ever really gotten between Keith and Darnell, they'd always worked through it. The two knew each other for long enough that it was rarely, if ever, all that difficult. Hell, even when Kallie came around, as awkward as that made things (and at times things got very awkward, especially with fellow friend/clique member/associate Guy Rapide), they still remained as close as ever, and nothing that happened between any of them was really that big a deal, at least nobody really seemed to see it as such, and didn't effect their ties with each other at all. Darnell wasn't sure if he'd call their bonds unbreakable, but they were definitely something close to it, and he could never imagine Keith willingly pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.
At the same time, though, neither of them knew if the other was playing or intended on doing so, beyond what the announcements said, and both of them were mentioned as killers on those. Danya's system was designed to break down trust, encourage paranoia so that people were too busy fighting to really band together. In that insidious way, it was a genius system. Perfectly devised, every flaw tested and ironed out. Of course, Darnell had no idea just how much planning and development was put into the game, but that was the impression it gave him. Because of that, there was nothing telling Darnell that Keith wasn't just waiting for him to poke his head in the door to get a new hole put in it. Or that Keith had assumed he was playing and was drawing him into an ambush. There was nothing but his faith in his friend to suggest otherwise.
That's just gonna have to be enough then, dumbass! Danya's way isn't the only way. Keith knows that, and you know that.
Darnell had to admit he felt a bit ashamed for even thinking of doubting Keith, someone he'd been so close to for so many years that he barely remembered when they first met, but he'd be stupid to not be at all careful, and Darnell was definitely not stupid. Not drawing the sword (if Keith had a gun it wouldn't be much good, and he imagined that the tight quarters of a building's doorway wouldn't be conductive to sword fighting, along with the fact that he didn't want to look threatening), he slowly stepped towards the doorway from the side, tensing up every few seconds to listen for sounds. There was nothing except the noises of the jungle and the rain that was starting to slacken, so he continued to move forward until he was at the side of the doorway.
"Alright, I'm coming in!"
After that last call, Darnell rounded the corner into the doorway. However, he did not get the greeting he expected. Between him and Keith were three people with their backs to the door, but he could make Keith out from them. More distressingly, he saw the barrel of his shotgun pointed at the doorway between two of the three people. His eyes going wide, Darnell's reflexes, honed by the fact that he'd been unexpectedly attacked so many times, caused him to near-instantly step back out of the doorway and to the right, disappearing into cover and beating any gunfire that would've come his way. Pressed against the wall next to the open door of the jail, Darnell spent several seconds taking deep breaths, trying to manage his panic. He'd been both right and wrong, Keith was pointing a shotgun at him. He could've been shot if he hadn't been more careful!
What the hell was that all about?!
"What the fuck are you doing, Keith?! Don't point that thing at me! Or those guys who I have no reason to assume have done anything, for that matter! I'm sure by now you've realized THAT GUN IS NOT A FUCKING TOY!"
Darnell would've continued his very-quickly-spoken tirade against Keith Jackson and the fact that he was pointing a gun at Darnell and three random classmates he hadn't had time to recognize before ducking behind cover and praying for his life, but he was almost instantly interrupted by the ominous crackling of the PA that signalled a new announcement, and the start of day six. He should have prepared for it, and the cold dread that would grip him as he listened, as it was pretty much dawn when he showed up at the jail, but he had been too ecstatic about finding his friends again. Still, he knew this wouldn't be good.
Oh God...
It wasn't.
It was as if Danya had noticed Darnell's change of situation and was trying to crush any hope of something actually going well for him or his friends, as all he could do was stand against that wall in shock while Danya half-cheerily and half-casually and in a businesslike manner listed off the much larger list of the dead, including two his assistant forgot in the last one (Adonis Zorba and Monique St. Claire...damn, he knew both of them). That hideous voice, listing off every death like he was talking about his fucking shopping list, moving to people like Paul Smith or Serenity Halos who he knew personally, and eventually hitting Guy Rapide. Surprisingly, though when the name came up a smaller form of the same void that he'd felt when he killed Simon appeared, he had no reaction to this but a gulp, as his mouth moved in soundless curses, mute attempts at reasoning with the madman. Maybe if he spoke loud enough, it would give him pause and force him to actually address the students on a personal level. Perhaps if he could make an impassioned enough speech like that one guy he'd seen on a TV show some years back...Picard or something like that, Danya would be moved enough to let everyone go home.
But life wasn't a TV show, and no words escaped from Darnell. Even when Danya sadistically forced them to listen to him detonate the collars of Trinity Sparks, Jazz Creed, Wednesday Ryan, and Melissa Diaz, and their dying screams as the collars blew out their necks and left them to bleed out, saying that he would detonate a collar for every camera Neil Sinclair's SADD group destroyed from then on, he just couldn't do anything. His fists clenched a bit, and he felt his body shake, but there was nothing. Not even when the announcement cut out, leaving the girls' screams to echo from the omnipresent yet hidden speakers did Darnell react.
It was odd to Darnell that he could be so numb, so serenely at peace at that, even though he was just as revolted as he had been by every announcement, but with another sigh he found himself slumping to the ground outside again, looking at his knees as he sat.
"Keith...I'm sorry. Is it okay for me to come in? You won't shoot me, will you?"
For once something was going right for Darnell, a phenomenon that had pretty much been alien to him since the first day of this piece of shit game. As he heard Keith Jackson's seemingly jovial tone call back out to him, telling him to come inside, he couldn't help the wide grin that started to crack across his face. After he'd gotten separated from Kallie and Guy at the cottage, he thought he'd never find any of his friends again, and here he had fallen right into their laps, more or less. They were safe, and he had found them. Overcome with elation and struck with a surge of adrenaline from the excitement, he bolted up from his seated position and more or less ran around to the front of the jailhouse, his desire to finally reunite with Keith and Kallie overriding the previous lethargy. It had even leaked into his voice a bit, whereas his previous call had been loud and sincere it was still congested and listless, his fatigue showing, but only an idiot could hear Darnell's reply to Keith and not instantly know just how glad he was.
Hey, wait a second, you can't just rush in there! You have to think about this!
By the time that thought kicked in he had almost reached the doorway and practically charged in, though at the pace he was making that meant it occurred to him only a few seconds after he started his run, but it caused him to stop in his tracks. It was almost six days into the game, could he really afford to be that careless? After all, almost literally everyone he had met had attacked him at one point or another. Keith was 100%, bar none, his best friend, possibly excluding Kallie (and with her, he really had no idea what his stance was, his heart and mind nearly tore themselves apart every time he tried to think of an answer beyond "I don't know if I love her or just think of her as a best friend or sister"). Fuck, they were like brothers. Still, as hard as it was to think it, it was very possible that it was a trap.
Come on, man, don't think that way. If you can't trust people who're almost family to you, who can you trust? Can't let Danya win by making you think that way!
Darnell couldn't help but sigh a little at this conflict of interests. No matter what it was, no obstacle had ever really gotten between Keith and Darnell, they'd always worked through it. The two knew each other for long enough that it was rarely, if ever, all that difficult. Hell, even when Kallie came around, as awkward as that made things (and at times things got very awkward, especially with fellow friend/clique member/associate Guy Rapide), they still remained as close as ever, and nothing that happened between any of them was really that big a deal, at least nobody really seemed to see it as such, and didn't effect their ties with each other at all. Darnell wasn't sure if he'd call their bonds unbreakable, but they were definitely something close to it, and he could never imagine Keith willingly pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.
At the same time, though, neither of them knew if the other was playing or intended on doing so, beyond what the announcements said, and both of them were mentioned as killers on those. Danya's system was designed to break down trust, encourage paranoia so that people were too busy fighting to really band together. In that insidious way, it was a genius system. Perfectly devised, every flaw tested and ironed out. Of course, Darnell had no idea just how much planning and development was put into the game, but that was the impression it gave him. Because of that, there was nothing telling Darnell that Keith wasn't just waiting for him to poke his head in the door to get a new hole put in it. Or that Keith had assumed he was playing and was drawing him into an ambush. There was nothing but his faith in his friend to suggest otherwise.
That's just gonna have to be enough then, dumbass! Danya's way isn't the only way. Keith knows that, and you know that.
Darnell had to admit he felt a bit ashamed for even thinking of doubting Keith, someone he'd been so close to for so many years that he barely remembered when they first met, but he'd be stupid to not be at all careful, and Darnell was definitely not stupid. Not drawing the sword (if Keith had a gun it wouldn't be much good, and he imagined that the tight quarters of a building's doorway wouldn't be conductive to sword fighting, along with the fact that he didn't want to look threatening), he slowly stepped towards the doorway from the side, tensing up every few seconds to listen for sounds. There was nothing except the noises of the jungle and the rain that was starting to slacken, so he continued to move forward until he was at the side of the doorway.
"Alright, I'm coming in!"
After that last call, Darnell rounded the corner into the doorway. However, he did not get the greeting he expected. Between him and Keith were three people with their backs to the door, but he could make Keith out from them. More distressingly, he saw the barrel of his shotgun pointed at the doorway between two of the three people. His eyes going wide, Darnell's reflexes, honed by the fact that he'd been unexpectedly attacked so many times, caused him to near-instantly step back out of the doorway and to the right, disappearing into cover and beating any gunfire that would've come his way. Pressed against the wall next to the open door of the jail, Darnell spent several seconds taking deep breaths, trying to manage his panic. He'd been both right and wrong, Keith was pointing a shotgun at him. He could've been shot if he hadn't been more careful!
What the hell was that all about?!
"What the fuck are you doing, Keith?! Don't point that thing at me! Or those guys who I have no reason to assume have done anything, for that matter! I'm sure by now you've realized THAT GUN IS NOT A FUCKING TOY!"
Darnell would've continued his very-quickly-spoken tirade against Keith Jackson and the fact that he was pointing a gun at Darnell and three random classmates he hadn't had time to recognize before ducking behind cover and praying for his life, but he was almost instantly interrupted by the ominous crackling of the PA that signalled a new announcement, and the start of day six. He should have prepared for it, and the cold dread that would grip him as he listened, as it was pretty much dawn when he showed up at the jail, but he had been too ecstatic about finding his friends again. Still, he knew this wouldn't be good.
Oh God...
It wasn't.
It was as if Danya had noticed Darnell's change of situation and was trying to crush any hope of something actually going well for him or his friends, as all he could do was stand against that wall in shock while Danya half-cheerily and half-casually and in a businesslike manner listed off the much larger list of the dead, including two his assistant forgot in the last one (Adonis Zorba and Monique St. Claire...damn, he knew both of them). That hideous voice, listing off every death like he was talking about his fucking shopping list, moving to people like Paul Smith or Serenity Halos who he knew personally, and eventually hitting Guy Rapide. Surprisingly, though when the name came up a smaller form of the same void that he'd felt when he killed Simon appeared, he had no reaction to this but a gulp, as his mouth moved in soundless curses, mute attempts at reasoning with the madman. Maybe if he spoke loud enough, it would give him pause and force him to actually address the students on a personal level. Perhaps if he could make an impassioned enough speech like that one guy he'd seen on a TV show some years back...Picard or something like that, Danya would be moved enough to let everyone go home.
But life wasn't a TV show, and no words escaped from Darnell. Even when Danya sadistically forced them to listen to him detonate the collars of Trinity Sparks, Jazz Creed, Wednesday Ryan, and Melissa Diaz, and their dying screams as the collars blew out their necks and left them to bleed out, saying that he would detonate a collar for every camera Neil Sinclair's SADD group destroyed from then on, he just couldn't do anything. His fists clenched a bit, and he felt his body shake, but there was nothing. Not even when the announcement cut out, leaving the girls' screams to echo from the omnipresent yet hidden speakers did Darnell react.
It was odd to Darnell that he could be so numb, so serenely at peace at that, even though he was just as revolted as he had been by every announcement, but with another sigh he found himself slumping to the ground outside again, looking at his knees as he sat.
"Keith...I'm sorry. Is it okay for me to come in? You won't shoot me, will you?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.