((Shameeca continued on from Panic Attack))
With a almost joyous relief, Shameeca had found the barracks empty of life, well except a large rat in one of the rooms chewing on what looked like someone who had died. Sadly, there was no sign of Rob here, but the fact that such a large area with shelter had just been cleared as a dangerzone would mean that people would be here soon. Maybe she could ask them to help her find him, or find one of her other friends. No, when people came here, she wouldn't be threatining like those in the tower at the airfield. She wouldn't become all paranoid like them, just that she would be a lot more quieter. If no-one here knew that she was a killer, they wouldn't force her out if she let them stay, would they??
Innocent people always lasted longer than known murderers in in groups, unless that killer was particularly skilled and Shamee wasn't. From all the running, she had a lot of time to think about it all. If she hadn't meant to kill him, that meant she wasn't guilty, right. It was all in self-defence and she was justified in it. Shameeca's mind had changed from grief to almost denial over the fact that she had killed the poor guy back there, but this would be different. Now she was gonna rest, maybe find out where Rob or Lenny were and then make plans with them. Little did she know that half the corpses in the area were at the hand of the guy that she had a crush on.
Standing by one of the barracks that didn't have any bodys in, the black girl stood out, looking for people in the distance, lining up things with the scope of her rifle. If people came this way, maybe she could pick them off one by one. After all, six bullets could take a few people out of the game, make her a little safer. Shamee could see the appeal of playing the game. After all, people who did play seemed to last longer, and maybe she could win if she played. Maybe she could go home, back to see her parents. But what would they think of her, their little girl coming home a murderer.
The dark feeling of guilt swam up in her gut at that thought and she turned, vomiting onto the ground. Who the fuck was she kidding? She was as bad as Lenny, worse even. At least he knew he was a murderous son of a bitch, but Shamee was just lying to herself. Like a coward. Maybe she could end it here, make the odds better for someone else who wasn't a bad person to win. Maybe killing herself would make amends. Looking at the barrel of the gun, she just couldn't see shooting herself with it. And thats what she wasn't going to do. Tired of being weak and tired, tired of being a victim, she was going to fight back just like she had done with Rob, even though three innocent people had died.
No, she would just wait to meet the people who showed up in the safe area and see what they knew. The faster she could find Rob and kill Lenny the better.
Where The Sinners Gather
Where The Sinners Gather
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((Emma Babineaux continued from (Girls are Only Good for) One Thing))
Emma wasn't entirely sure how long she ran for, or where she was going to end up, and she honestly didn't care. She barely noticed her surroundings as she continued to flee, hardly even realized when she stumbled over uneven ground; Sheer horror had overtaken both exhaustion and logic, and the only thing Emma looked at as she ran on was the space directly in front of her, away from the carnage she had just seen.
Finally, the fatigue she felt at the top of the lookout tower seemed to have caught her, and Emma at last slowed to a stop, falling to her knees panting. As she caught her breath, she took in her surroundings - apparently she had just emerged in a clearing in the jungle. A group of small buildings were a few feet away. Sliding her duffel bag off of her shoulder, she was about to reach in to check her map when, for the second time that night, a foul smell reached her nose.
She looked to her right.
A student, corpse bloated, face frozen into a look of terror, looked back at her. Directly between his eyes was a bullethole, the results of which were smeared, as if by some mad painter, behind the poor boy, rotten and decaying.
The sound of insects buzzing once again reached Emma's ears. She couldn't escape it. The entire island was rotting all around her, and it was only a matter of time before she was next.
Unable to stop herself any longer, Emma leaned down over the ground on all fours and gagged, ready to taste bile.
Nothing came. Perhaps due to exhaustion, or lack of food, but Emma couldn't bring herself to vomit - all that came from her retching was a bit of saliva from the back of her throat.
Unable to express her disgust, she began to shake uncontrollably. Fatigue once again slowly taking over her mind, she no longer cared who would hear her - Emma collapsed onto the ground, pounded her fists repeatedly on the soil, and screamed at the top of her voice.
Emma wasn't entirely sure how long she ran for, or where she was going to end up, and she honestly didn't care. She barely noticed her surroundings as she continued to flee, hardly even realized when she stumbled over uneven ground; Sheer horror had overtaken both exhaustion and logic, and the only thing Emma looked at as she ran on was the space directly in front of her, away from the carnage she had just seen.
Finally, the fatigue she felt at the top of the lookout tower seemed to have caught her, and Emma at last slowed to a stop, falling to her knees panting. As she caught her breath, she took in her surroundings - apparently she had just emerged in a clearing in the jungle. A group of small buildings were a few feet away. Sliding her duffel bag off of her shoulder, she was about to reach in to check her map when, for the second time that night, a foul smell reached her nose.
She looked to her right.
A student, corpse bloated, face frozen into a look of terror, looked back at her. Directly between his eyes was a bullethole, the results of which were smeared, as if by some mad painter, behind the poor boy, rotten and decaying.
The sound of insects buzzing once again reached Emma's ears. She couldn't escape it. The entire island was rotting all around her, and it was only a matter of time before she was next.
Unable to stop herself any longer, Emma leaned down over the ground on all fours and gagged, ready to taste bile.
Nothing came. Perhaps due to exhaustion, or lack of food, but Emma couldn't bring herself to vomit - all that came from her retching was a bit of saliva from the back of her throat.
Unable to express her disgust, she began to shake uncontrollably. Fatigue once again slowly taking over her mind, she no longer cared who would hear her - Emma collapsed onto the ground, pounded her fists repeatedly on the soil, and screamed at the top of her voice.
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At first, she didn't hear the footsteps at all till they were so close that Shamee ducked a little behind a wall, making herself less viasble. She couldn't see or hear where they had come from but they were there all the less. Suddenly, it all came to a standstill, like the person had stopped. Peeking out from around the door, rifle in hand, she saw a girl there, on her knees by one of the bodies that Shameeca had avoided being near on purpose. It seemed to be a girl, with red hair and she looked like she was going to throw up. The black girl could hear the gagging, but none of the aftermath. It seemed like she was dry heaving, yet it was probably shock. Shamee knew what she was like when Petra had died in front of her, and dead bodies could be traumatic. She felt sympathy for the girl there, obviously in shock. Forgetting that it could be a trap or even if she knew the girl, she slung the rifle over her shoulder and dropped her bag on the floor quietly, before making her way towards the girl.
Suddenly, the red-head seemed to have a fit, screaming and shouting incomprehensibly. With all that noise, she was bound to draw one of the players in to where Shamee had found relative quiet. She needed to be shut up. For an instant, her hand reached for the wrench at her waist. How easy would it be to shut the girl up for good. The temptation to make the game easier by taking out the weakest and taking a potential enemy out was almost irresistible but she held strong. She wouldn't fully become like Lenny, there was still a bit of goodness left in her. Right then she made a decision, one that could end her game very soon. Shameeca Mitchell decided to help.
Running over to her, Shameeca dropped to her knees and grabbed the girl, holding her tight, placing her hand over the girls mouth in an attempt to stop her screaming. It may have been rough, but if they wanted to stay safe, she needed to do it.
"Shhh, shh, shh. Quiet now girl, it will be alright, shhh, shh. Your safe here, its just a body, your safe. Shhhh" she whispered to the red-head, trying to stop her from making much more noise. It may be harsh, but it was necessary. Despite the fact that her clothes were stained with blood and she looked very dirty, Shamee was trying her best comforting tones, much like she did with children. Hopefully it would work. Hoping the girl had stopped her screaming, she took her hand off the mouth.
((Sorry it took me so long to reply, twas Xmas and all))
Suddenly, the red-head seemed to have a fit, screaming and shouting incomprehensibly. With all that noise, she was bound to draw one of the players in to where Shamee had found relative quiet. She needed to be shut up. For an instant, her hand reached for the wrench at her waist. How easy would it be to shut the girl up for good. The temptation to make the game easier by taking out the weakest and taking a potential enemy out was almost irresistible but she held strong. She wouldn't fully become like Lenny, there was still a bit of goodness left in her. Right then she made a decision, one that could end her game very soon. Shameeca Mitchell decided to help.
Running over to her, Shameeca dropped to her knees and grabbed the girl, holding her tight, placing her hand over the girls mouth in an attempt to stop her screaming. It may have been rough, but if they wanted to stay safe, she needed to do it.
"Shhh, shh, shh. Quiet now girl, it will be alright, shhh, shh. Your safe here, its just a body, your safe. Shhhh" she whispered to the red-head, trying to stop her from making much more noise. It may be harsh, but it was necessary. Despite the fact that her clothes were stained with blood and she looked very dirty, Shamee was trying her best comforting tones, much like she did with children. Hopefully it would work. Hoping the girl had stopped her screaming, she took her hand off the mouth.
((Sorry it took me so long to reply, twas Xmas and all))
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Emma continued to scream, practically thrashing on the ground, kicking up dust everywhere. She shook her head back and forth, her hair looking like a raging fire. Maybe it was childish of her, but by this point, Emma couldn't stop. She was screaming away everything that had happened to her, the guilt over betraying Maxie, J.R.'s killing spree, the throbbing bruise on her forehead he had given her, the goddamned flies BUZZING. She was so lost in her tantrum that it never occurred to her that she was giving away her position and leaving herself completely vulnerable to attack.
At least, not until she felt a pair of arms grabbing at her and covering her mouth.
Emma gave an almost involuntary jerk away from whoever the arms belonged to, but it did her little good. Completely worn out from her furious tantrum and throat sore from screaming, Emma found that she was too weak to resist the attack. Defeated, she silenced herself and allowed herself to be held. Emma looked up into the face of the person she could only assume would become her killer - a black girl she didn't recognize. The girl had blood on her clothes - probably from her last victim. Well, better Emma died at the hand of someone she didn't know rather than somebody she had considered a friend at school.
Apparently realizing that she had stopped resisting, the girl released her hand from Emma's mouth. This was it. This was where her life would end. Her thoughts once again turned to her mother. She'd never get to apologize to her for being so difficult, she'd never-
Because Emma was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, it took a moment for her to register exactly what the black girl was saying to her.
"Shhh, shh, shh. Quiet now girl, it will be alright, shhh, shh. You're safe here, it's just a body, you're safe. Shhhh."
...What? She... she was comforting her. The deathblow wasn't coming.
Emma wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Grateful as she was, she also couldn't shake the nagging sensation that she could be being lulled into a false sense of security. After all, the last person that had seemed to be comforting her had smashed her across the head with a tire iron not long after. Scared but weary, Emma was unable to stop herself from blurting the first thought that came to mind.
"You're... you're not going to kill me?"
((Nah, s'cool, I wouldn't have been able to post anything decent until after Christmas, either.))
At least, not until she felt a pair of arms grabbing at her and covering her mouth.
Emma gave an almost involuntary jerk away from whoever the arms belonged to, but it did her little good. Completely worn out from her furious tantrum and throat sore from screaming, Emma found that she was too weak to resist the attack. Defeated, she silenced herself and allowed herself to be held. Emma looked up into the face of the person she could only assume would become her killer - a black girl she didn't recognize. The girl had blood on her clothes - probably from her last victim. Well, better Emma died at the hand of someone she didn't know rather than somebody she had considered a friend at school.
Apparently realizing that she had stopped resisting, the girl released her hand from Emma's mouth. This was it. This was where her life would end. Her thoughts once again turned to her mother. She'd never get to apologize to her for being so difficult, she'd never-
Because Emma was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, it took a moment for her to register exactly what the black girl was saying to her.
"Shhh, shh, shh. Quiet now girl, it will be alright, shhh, shh. You're safe here, it's just a body, you're safe. Shhhh."
...What? She... she was comforting her. The deathblow wasn't coming.
Emma wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Grateful as she was, she also couldn't shake the nagging sensation that she could be being lulled into a false sense of security. After all, the last person that had seemed to be comforting her had smashed her across the head with a tire iron not long after. Scared but weary, Emma was unable to stop herself from blurting the first thought that came to mind.
"You're... you're not going to kill me?"
((Nah, s'cool, I wouldn't have been able to post anything decent until after Christmas, either.))
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Surprisingly, the girl didn't struggle as much as Shameeca had thought. The screams started to stop, almost as if someone had turned an mute button for the redhead. The girl's eyes flickered upwards at Shameeca, fear showing underneath the bruises on her face. The girl looked like she had been through the mill and while Shamee herself wasn't one hundred percent, the other girl looked like she was in a lot worse condition than Shameeca herself.
"No, Im not gonna kill ya. I just wanted to shut you up cause with the way you were screaming, every single player within a mile would of been down on you like a shot. Now lets get inside where its safe. Whats your name anyway?" Shameeca said as she let go of the girl and stood up.
"Names Shameeca. Nice to meet someone who isn't trying to shoot me for a change"
((Soz its short, really busy))
"No, Im not gonna kill ya. I just wanted to shut you up cause with the way you were screaming, every single player within a mile would of been down on you like a shot. Now lets get inside where its safe. Whats your name anyway?" Shameeca said as she let go of the girl and stood up.
"Names Shameeca. Nice to meet someone who isn't trying to shoot me for a change"
((Soz its short, really busy))
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Emma fell back to the ground as soon as she was let go by the girl, blushing a bit. She hadn't considered who else could be lurking around - hell, whoever killed the guy sitting next to her could be hiding in one of those buildings. She stood up and brushed the dirt off of her clothes. Looking around, she realized that there were quite a few bodies scattered around the area, all of them at least a few days old judging by how rotten they were. Emma felt slightly nauseated again at this revelation, but kept herself under control this time. Another fit would do nothing but embarrass her again, or worse, draw the attention of someone less sympathetic.
I should be down on my knees thanking... well, thanking whatever... that this girl didn't kill me on the spot...
The black girl introduced herself as Shameeca. It wasn't a name Emma recognized from the announcements, though she hadn't been paying attention to them that much lately... could she really trust her? Emma made a mental note to keep better track of the announcements - she really had to start thinking things through more if she didn't want to put her life on the line.
"I'm Emma," she replied, standing up as well, "Emma Babineaux." Emma made sure to exaggerate the French accent on her last name - strange how old habits like that stuck even here.
She noticed Shameeca staring at her forehead, and felt a little ashamed all over again. The body she had worked so hard to take care of must be in terrible shape, and John Rizzolo had come pretty close to ruining her face, as well. Shameeca didn't look so good herself, although, Emma noted, she didn't seem to have any major wounds. Unless that blood on her clothes was her own... Before she could stop herself, Emma once again blurted out what she was thinking.
"I guess you're not playing, then? Where'd that blood come from?"
I should be down on my knees thanking... well, thanking whatever... that this girl didn't kill me on the spot...
The black girl introduced herself as Shameeca. It wasn't a name Emma recognized from the announcements, though she hadn't been paying attention to them that much lately... could she really trust her? Emma made a mental note to keep better track of the announcements - she really had to start thinking things through more if she didn't want to put her life on the line.
"I'm Emma," she replied, standing up as well, "Emma Babineaux." Emma made sure to exaggerate the French accent on her last name - strange how old habits like that stuck even here.
She noticed Shameeca staring at her forehead, and felt a little ashamed all over again. The body she had worked so hard to take care of must be in terrible shape, and John Rizzolo had come pretty close to ruining her face, as well. Shameeca didn't look so good herself, although, Emma noted, she didn't seem to have any major wounds. Unless that blood on her clothes was her own... Before she could stop herself, Emma once again blurted out what she was thinking.
"I guess you're not playing, then? Where'd that blood come from?"
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((Renee Valenti continued from Faith in Nothing))
Another redhead trudged into the barracks area, though not as raging as she had been these past few days.
It had also been damn well over a week already, and Renee Valenti had witnessed enough death around her (not counting those she'd watched the last time this game came around) that perhaps she didn't feel so bothered by it anymore. The one person who had sworn to come after her and make her suffer was dead, so was the leader (and other member) of the gang she'd joined.
It was fitting, perhaps, that in the process of trying to figure out exactly what to do next Renee had somehow ended up right back where she had woken up. Even more so that she stood right next to a long-since-dried puddle of blood and plasma where two corpses lay, one fairly intact save for a blown collar and a week's decay, the other charred and very thoroughly decapitated. She very much remembered who did this to at least one of them, and remembered that all too well.
""Prove to me that you're fit to survive by surviving on your own for a single day. If we do see each other again after a day as passed I'll make sure to take care of you, if I see you before..."
She had passed that with flying colors...and then there was her other ghost. That one seemed to have faded, but nothing came next. Nothing save for some screaming from somewhere else in the area. She started over toward that location, unconsciously coiling her chain around both hands like a garrote, ready to strike. It was no longer out of an urge to kill as it was something that just 'came to her.'
Then she noticed that the two weren't actually fighting, and uncoiled from her right hand (the bow was slung over that shoulder, it helped her balance).
"Shit...you guys okay?" she said with a sincere yet faint hint of concern, slowly moving forward. No telling what weapons they had or when they'd use them...at least at first glance.
((Sorry it's not much either. Currently in writer's block.))
Another redhead trudged into the barracks area, though not as raging as she had been these past few days.
It had also been damn well over a week already, and Renee Valenti had witnessed enough death around her (not counting those she'd watched the last time this game came around) that perhaps she didn't feel so bothered by it anymore. The one person who had sworn to come after her and make her suffer was dead, so was the leader (and other member) of the gang she'd joined.
It was fitting, perhaps, that in the process of trying to figure out exactly what to do next Renee had somehow ended up right back where she had woken up. Even more so that she stood right next to a long-since-dried puddle of blood and plasma where two corpses lay, one fairly intact save for a blown collar and a week's decay, the other charred and very thoroughly decapitated. She very much remembered who did this to at least one of them, and remembered that all too well.
""Prove to me that you're fit to survive by surviving on your own for a single day. If we do see each other again after a day as passed I'll make sure to take care of you, if I see you before..."
She had passed that with flying colors...and then there was her other ghost. That one seemed to have faded, but nothing came next. Nothing save for some screaming from somewhere else in the area. She started over toward that location, unconsciously coiling her chain around both hands like a garrote, ready to strike. It was no longer out of an urge to kill as it was something that just 'came to her.'
Then she noticed that the two weren't actually fighting, and uncoiled from her right hand (the bow was slung over that shoulder, it helped her balance).
"Shit...you guys okay?" she said with a sincere yet faint hint of concern, slowly moving forward. No telling what weapons they had or when they'd use them...at least at first glance.
((Sorry it's not much either. Currently in writer's block.))
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Well at least the girl had a name now, despite the fact that Shameeca had no clue how to pronounce the last name. Sounded european, or something like that. It beat just calling her red-headed girl, but the chicago born teen had never heard of Emma before. They must have never crossed paths before in the school. It was odd, all these names being called out, people she knew, feared, hated and admired all being announced as dead like the others she had never known. Death made everyone equal, they said and it was true. The only difference for them now was whether anyone would make it to be that last person.
"Well, there was this guy and he tried to... he tried to" Shamee started and her lip started trembling, choking back a sob. Suddenly, she caught her self and a steely resolve crossed her eyes. No more being a loser, time to be strong.
"It was him or me, I'm not saying any more about it till we are somewhere safer" she finished, looking into the distance. Another girl was approaching and she was armed. A red-head as well (seriously, how many did they have in the school?) , but something about her put Shameeca on edge. The fact that the screaming could of attracted her was a bad thing, but she could be friendly. Bottom line was, she looked dangerous, as most people did now in the day.
"We're fine. Who are you?" Shameeca said as she subconsciously moved in front of Emma, mimicing what James had done to her all that few days ago that sent her on this path. But she wasn't going to let Emma get hurt when she had just met her. Be a protector, keep them safe.
"Well, there was this guy and he tried to... he tried to" Shamee started and her lip started trembling, choking back a sob. Suddenly, she caught her self and a steely resolve crossed her eyes. No more being a loser, time to be strong.
"It was him or me, I'm not saying any more about it till we are somewhere safer" she finished, looking into the distance. Another girl was approaching and she was armed. A red-head as well (seriously, how many did they have in the school?) , but something about her put Shameeca on edge. The fact that the screaming could of attracted her was a bad thing, but she could be friendly. Bottom line was, she looked dangerous, as most people did now in the day.
"We're fine. Who are you?" Shameeca said as she subconsciously moved in front of Emma, mimicing what James had done to her all that few days ago that sent her on this path. But she wasn't going to let Emma get hurt when she had just met her. Be a protector, keep them safe.
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"Well, there was this guy and he tried to... he tried to"
The girl... Shameeca, rather, seemed visibly upset by the question. It was Emma's turn to feel sympathetic. She put a hand on Shameeca's shoulder before the girl continued her sentence.
"It was him or me, I'm not saying any more about it till we are somewhere safer."
Emma quickly lowered her hand again. So it was true... she had killed someone. Sure, Shameeca didn't seem to wish her any harm, and she did seem a bit upset by it, but that didn't change the fact that Emma was standing face-to-face with a murderer. She simply couldn't comprehend it. How could someone come up to her, comfort her, right after killing another person? Murder wasn't possible unless the culprit was completely out of there minds, like J.R. had been... was it? Her trust in Shameeca beginning to fade as quickly as it had come, Emma simply muttered "Oh... well, um... okay... I suppose you can just... tell me when you're ready..."
I don't think that's something I really want to find out about... Maybe I should just get out of here...
She was jerked out of her thoughts, however, by a third voice suddenly coming from the darkness. Unable to stop herself, Emma let out a small gasp of surprise when she noticed another girl approaching them, and once again silently cursed her own inattention. How many times could she do this in one night? Worst of all, the newcomer was armed, uncurling a chain from her hand as she spoke. Before Emma could react any further, however, Shameeca stepped in front of her. Once again, Emma felt complimented and confused. If Shameeca was a murderer, then why was she defending her?
It didn't matter. Shameeca hadn't attempted to kill her instantly, but this newcomer could. She'd rather have a killer on her side than no one at all. Setting aside her doubts about Shameeca for the moment, Emma took a better look at the girl that had approached them. Relatively thin, red hair... Emma couldn't recall ever having talked to the girl, but she knew that she had seen her before... hadn't she been in the school play a few months ago? What was her name...
"You're... Reneé, aren't you?" Emma said, recalling a name she had read in the program. Or maybe she had heard it over the announcements... she really did need to start paying closer attention to them. Emma took an intuitive step further behind Shameeca and glanced down at her daypack, where her falchion was. Hopefully, she wouldn't be needing it again...
The girl... Shameeca, rather, seemed visibly upset by the question. It was Emma's turn to feel sympathetic. She put a hand on Shameeca's shoulder before the girl continued her sentence.
"It was him or me, I'm not saying any more about it till we are somewhere safer."
Emma quickly lowered her hand again. So it was true... she had killed someone. Sure, Shameeca didn't seem to wish her any harm, and she did seem a bit upset by it, but that didn't change the fact that Emma was standing face-to-face with a murderer. She simply couldn't comprehend it. How could someone come up to her, comfort her, right after killing another person? Murder wasn't possible unless the culprit was completely out of there minds, like J.R. had been... was it? Her trust in Shameeca beginning to fade as quickly as it had come, Emma simply muttered "Oh... well, um... okay... I suppose you can just... tell me when you're ready..."
I don't think that's something I really want to find out about... Maybe I should just get out of here...
She was jerked out of her thoughts, however, by a third voice suddenly coming from the darkness. Unable to stop herself, Emma let out a small gasp of surprise when she noticed another girl approaching them, and once again silently cursed her own inattention. How many times could she do this in one night? Worst of all, the newcomer was armed, uncurling a chain from her hand as she spoke. Before Emma could react any further, however, Shameeca stepped in front of her. Once again, Emma felt complimented and confused. If Shameeca was a murderer, then why was she defending her?
It didn't matter. Shameeca hadn't attempted to kill her instantly, but this newcomer could. She'd rather have a killer on her side than no one at all. Setting aside her doubts about Shameeca for the moment, Emma took a better look at the girl that had approached them. Relatively thin, red hair... Emma couldn't recall ever having talked to the girl, but she knew that she had seen her before... hadn't she been in the school play a few months ago? What was her name...
"You're... Reneé, aren't you?" Emma said, recalling a name she had read in the program. Or maybe she had heard it over the announcements... she really did need to start paying closer attention to them. Emma took an intuitive step further behind Shameeca and glanced down at her daypack, where her falchion was. Hopefully, she wouldn't be needing it again...
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"We're fine. Who are you?"
Renee briefly raised the chain again as her arrival perked the girls' attention. Having been part of several rather spontaneous fights over the past few days had gotten her leery...on the other hand, the fact that she had not actually directly killed anyone since then meant she was a bit unsure as to how she would go about it. Of course, that wasn't the point at the moment.
Renee couldn't tell if she was protecting her out of the goodness of her heart or if she was defending her rights to a kill. All she could tell was that Shameeca was ready to fight, and that she had already killed someone, though judging from what she was sounding like as she approached, she didn't particularly enjoy it.
The redhead cowering behind Shameeca definitely recognized Renee from her performance in the school play earlier that year. Renee couldn't remember if she'd seen her in the audience, but she did notice that French accent.
"Yeah... Renee Valenti..." she replied, lowering the chain to her side. "Emma, and Shameeca..." she added with a soft mutter, trying to keep her memory active by recalling their names, "You've been playing long?"
The thought briefly occurred in her head that Emma would be "easier" than Shameeca, and although that thought did not specifically mention what she'd be easier at, Renee got the idea. Such a thought though manifested in Renee quickly shaking her head, as if to keep herself awake.
Renee briefly raised the chain again as her arrival perked the girls' attention. Having been part of several rather spontaneous fights over the past few days had gotten her leery...on the other hand, the fact that she had not actually directly killed anyone since then meant she was a bit unsure as to how she would go about it. Of course, that wasn't the point at the moment.
Renee couldn't tell if she was protecting her out of the goodness of her heart or if she was defending her rights to a kill. All she could tell was that Shameeca was ready to fight, and that she had already killed someone, though judging from what she was sounding like as she approached, she didn't particularly enjoy it.
The redhead cowering behind Shameeca definitely recognized Renee from her performance in the school play earlier that year. Renee couldn't remember if she'd seen her in the audience, but she did notice that French accent.
"Yeah... Renee Valenti..." she replied, lowering the chain to her side. "Emma, and Shameeca..." she added with a soft mutter, trying to keep her memory active by recalling their names, "You've been playing long?"
The thought briefly occurred in her head that Emma would be "easier" than Shameeca, and although that thought did not specifically mention what she'd be easier at, Renee got the idea. Such a thought though manifested in Renee quickly shaking her head, as if to keep herself awake.
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.
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landlocked†
- Posts: 99
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 9:03 am
((Sorry, I know I'm fucking post order up the butt, but since we're in a Danger Zone and all now...))
"Yeah... Renee Valenti... Emma, and Shameeca... You've been playing long?"
Emma felt a bit uneasy when she heard Reneé say her name. Apparently, the girl recognized her, as well, although Emma wasn't entirely sure what that meant for her. Reneé also seemed to believe that they were playing the game. Propelled by her terrified state, Emma's mind began racing to conclusions.
Reneé considered them a threat. She was going to attack. They were going to have to defend themselves, she had no choice, another crazed classmate wanted her dead... making up her frazzled mind, Emma leaned down and began rummaging through her daypack as fast as she could. She had to get the falchion out before Reneé attacked. Fortunately, she was able to find it much more quickly than she normally would have, because the sky was finally getting lighter...
Wait. Was it dawn already? That meant...
"Good morning, children!"
Before she could draw the weapon, her thoughts seemed to suddenly skid to a halt as the PA system crackled to life and Danya began his daily list of the deceased. Now was finally her chance to find out exactly who and how the other two girls had killed.
But... something was wrong. When did he start reading the announcements this way? Danya wasn't even telling them all who had killed who. He simply read down the list of the dead. The students she had practically grown up with were dying left and right, and Danya called their names as if he was reading a grocery list. As he continued to read through the names, Emma found herself shuddering involuntarily. She could be a few moments away from being just like them, dead at the hands of some psychotic student, her name on the next laundry list of recent murders. Her thoughts strayed from the announcement to her mother, her father, her best friend Bridget...
She was snapped back to reality as Danya called off the final name on his list - Emma hadn't known Adam Dodd personally, but everybody in the school had been talking about him when he transferred. Emma had never watched Survival of the Fittest, but she'd have to have lived under a rock not to have heard of it, and everybody at school was talking about it when Adam had won. Hearing his name on the list of the deceased only seemed to seal everyone's fate further - it didn't matter what they did or who they were. Every single one of them was going to die.
Before she could react any further to the news, however, Danya began listing off the day's Danger Zones. She hadn't checked her map to see what the name of the area she was in was, but she had assumed she was safe, but... permanent danger zones? He was boxing them in? That list had been long, yes, but just how many people were still alive?
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Panicking, she swiftly grabbed her pack, turned from the other girls and ran. All of her fears about Shameeca's intentions, her worry about what Reneé was going to do next, the shock of Adam's death, everything that had happened to her in the last nine days was completely forgotten. The only thing on Emma's mind as she dashed as fast as she could out of the area, running on pure adrenaline, was living to see the next day.
((Emma Babineaux continued in A Short History of Almost Something))
"Yeah... Renee Valenti... Emma, and Shameeca... You've been playing long?"
Emma felt a bit uneasy when she heard Reneé say her name. Apparently, the girl recognized her, as well, although Emma wasn't entirely sure what that meant for her. Reneé also seemed to believe that they were playing the game. Propelled by her terrified state, Emma's mind began racing to conclusions.
Reneé considered them a threat. She was going to attack. They were going to have to defend themselves, she had no choice, another crazed classmate wanted her dead... making up her frazzled mind, Emma leaned down and began rummaging through her daypack as fast as she could. She had to get the falchion out before Reneé attacked. Fortunately, she was able to find it much more quickly than she normally would have, because the sky was finally getting lighter...
Wait. Was it dawn already? That meant...
"Good morning, children!"
Before she could draw the weapon, her thoughts seemed to suddenly skid to a halt as the PA system crackled to life and Danya began his daily list of the deceased. Now was finally her chance to find out exactly who and how the other two girls had killed.
But... something was wrong. When did he start reading the announcements this way? Danya wasn't even telling them all who had killed who. He simply read down the list of the dead. The students she had practically grown up with were dying left and right, and Danya called their names as if he was reading a grocery list. As he continued to read through the names, Emma found herself shuddering involuntarily. She could be a few moments away from being just like them, dead at the hands of some psychotic student, her name on the next laundry list of recent murders. Her thoughts strayed from the announcement to her mother, her father, her best friend Bridget...
She was snapped back to reality as Danya called off the final name on his list - Emma hadn't known Adam Dodd personally, but everybody in the school had been talking about him when he transferred. Emma had never watched Survival of the Fittest, but she'd have to have lived under a rock not to have heard of it, and everybody at school was talking about it when Adam had won. Hearing his name on the list of the deceased only seemed to seal everyone's fate further - it didn't matter what they did or who they were. Every single one of them was going to die.
Before she could react any further to the news, however, Danya began listing off the day's Danger Zones. She hadn't checked her map to see what the name of the area she was in was, but she had assumed she was safe, but... permanent danger zones? He was boxing them in? That list had been long, yes, but just how many people were still alive?
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Panicking, she swiftly grabbed her pack, turned from the other girls and ran. All of her fears about Shameeca's intentions, her worry about what Reneé was going to do next, the shock of Adam's death, everything that had happened to her in the last nine days was completely forgotten. The only thing on Emma's mind as she dashed as fast as she could out of the area, running on pure adrenaline, was living to see the next day.
((Emma Babineaux continued in A Short History of Almost Something))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler landlocked. 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.
At this point in the game, Renee could never be sure if the only people left weren't playing the game. Whatever the case, her question definitely seemed to get Emma playing, as she suddenly lunged for her bag and started to sift through it.
Not wanting to risk going through Shameeca at the moment, Renee removed the bow from her shoulder drew the last arrow. Her mind was already psyching itself up with the reassurance that this particular arrow, the last, would somehow find its mark and out of all the arrows make it count. As timing would have it, she was about to arm it when the sudden blaring of the morning's announcements derailed her speeding train of thought.
Danya didn't mention who killed them or even how, only that they died. Not that Renee didn't know the specifics of how Jessa Vanallen and Melina Frost both bit it (or in their particular case, swallowed and suffocated it.) But it wasn't so much Renee's reaction that startled her inwardly as much as it was her lack of it, even to names of people she'd actually known.
The death of other people no longer seemed to bother her. The names were now just that, names. And she now realized that she feared being reduced to just that. A name. For all her fame and influence back home, it would all come to naught if she died just like every other person on this island so far. And it would certainly not help if she got out due to sheer luck, rather than her own effort...much like she did when the previous "season" of this game just missed her.
It was the beeping of Renee's collar that abruptly returned her attention back to the matter of hand, just in time to notice Emma fleeing.
As Emma bolted off, Renee took off in pursuit, darting past Shameeca. She had been lucky to survive eight days, but the last thing she wanted was for luck to get her through to the end.
((Renee Valenti continued elsewhere.))
Not wanting to risk going through Shameeca at the moment, Renee removed the bow from her shoulder drew the last arrow. Her mind was already psyching itself up with the reassurance that this particular arrow, the last, would somehow find its mark and out of all the arrows make it count. As timing would have it, she was about to arm it when the sudden blaring of the morning's announcements derailed her speeding train of thought.
Danya didn't mention who killed them or even how, only that they died. Not that Renee didn't know the specifics of how Jessa Vanallen and Melina Frost both bit it (or in their particular case, swallowed and suffocated it.) But it wasn't so much Renee's reaction that startled her inwardly as much as it was her lack of it, even to names of people she'd actually known.
The death of other people no longer seemed to bother her. The names were now just that, names. And she now realized that she feared being reduced to just that. A name. For all her fame and influence back home, it would all come to naught if she died just like every other person on this island so far. And it would certainly not help if she got out due to sheer luck, rather than her own effort...much like she did when the previous "season" of this game just missed her.
It was the beeping of Renee's collar that abruptly returned her attention back to the matter of hand, just in time to notice Emma fleeing.
As Emma bolted off, Renee took off in pursuit, darting past Shameeca. She had been lucky to survive eight days, but the last thing she wanted was for luck to get her through to the end.
((Renee Valenti continued elsewhere.))
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.
Shameeca glared at the girl, not trusting her in the slightest. Aside from the fact that she was already paranoid, something about Renee just screamed bad from the onset. She was evil, a player just like all those Lenny and all those names that she had heard. No, it was clear what Shamee needed to do in order to survive this. She needed to get somewhere safer, hole up and maybe bring Emma with her. Yeah, that was what she was going to do, in her head it was planned. Protect the innocent and maybe she could make up for what she had done. It was self defence but still, she was guilty. But maybe if she stopped others getting blood on their hands.
Suddenly, that same horrifying monstrous voice that always came every morning rang out, the cheerful tones covering the complete evilness of the man behind it. Danya, the terrorist, the killer, sounded happy and cheerful as he read out the names. Shameeca's hand reached to her back, quietly grasping the barrel of the gun, ready to use it when he read out what she had done. With the weapon she had used, he was sure to make a joke about it, just like he had done with all those other poor people around. It was wrong, but he was about to give the game away. If these two knew what she had done, then they would turn on her. She held her breath but it was different, almost as if Danya only knew the names and not the people. It was odd, but despite the names of all the people who had died, Shameeca felt safe in the fact that her dirty secret had been kept buried. Maybe she had been where one of the broken cameras had been, one of those that group with the crap name had vandalised till everyone had started being killed from it. The last name was a bit of a surprise, but he was human after all. Adam Dodd was flesh and blood like them all but he couldn't be expected to win two games. No-one could do that. All of the girls stood still till the announcement was over it seemed, and Shameeca got ready to relax when suddenly..
"All of the old danger zones are cleared, and have been replaced with the Chapel, the Barracks, the Storehouse, the Lagoon, the Quarry, and the Graveyard. Also, these danger zones will not be cleared tomorrow, so I hope you were paying attention!"
"Oh god" Shameeca whispered, her free hand going up to her neck, ignoring her arm pain as it did so. She was in the dangerzone, she could die if she didn't get out quick. However, that hesitation that she had done had let the others get away as well before her, Emma taking off with Renee in fast pursuit. Suddenly, the beeping managed to penetrate the black girls ears and her heart plummeted as she realised that at any second, it could explode. So as many others had done before and many others would do in the future, she fled, her feet pounding the earth beneath her as she tried to escapde before the collar detonated. For an instant she slowed, considering staying. It would be suicide but she would only have to stay still for a minute, then a moment of pain before she died peacefully, absolved of taking any more lives or watching others suffer. But in that split second, she saw hope. No, she wouldn't give in. Shameeca Mitchell was determined to live.
((Shameeca continued elsewhere))
Suddenly, that same horrifying monstrous voice that always came every morning rang out, the cheerful tones covering the complete evilness of the man behind it. Danya, the terrorist, the killer, sounded happy and cheerful as he read out the names. Shameeca's hand reached to her back, quietly grasping the barrel of the gun, ready to use it when he read out what she had done. With the weapon she had used, he was sure to make a joke about it, just like he had done with all those other poor people around. It was wrong, but he was about to give the game away. If these two knew what she had done, then they would turn on her. She held her breath but it was different, almost as if Danya only knew the names and not the people. It was odd, but despite the names of all the people who had died, Shameeca felt safe in the fact that her dirty secret had been kept buried. Maybe she had been where one of the broken cameras had been, one of those that group with the crap name had vandalised till everyone had started being killed from it. The last name was a bit of a surprise, but he was human after all. Adam Dodd was flesh and blood like them all but he couldn't be expected to win two games. No-one could do that. All of the girls stood still till the announcement was over it seemed, and Shameeca got ready to relax when suddenly..
"All of the old danger zones are cleared, and have been replaced with the Chapel, the Barracks, the Storehouse, the Lagoon, the Quarry, and the Graveyard. Also, these danger zones will not be cleared tomorrow, so I hope you were paying attention!"
"Oh god" Shameeca whispered, her free hand going up to her neck, ignoring her arm pain as it did so. She was in the dangerzone, she could die if she didn't get out quick. However, that hesitation that she had done had let the others get away as well before her, Emma taking off with Renee in fast pursuit. Suddenly, the beeping managed to penetrate the black girls ears and her heart plummeted as she realised that at any second, it could explode. So as many others had done before and many others would do in the future, she fled, her feet pounding the earth beneath her as she tried to escapde before the collar detonated. For an instant she slowed, considering staying. It would be suicide but she would only have to stay still for a minute, then a moment of pain before she died peacefully, absolved of taking any more lives or watching others suffer. But in that split second, she saw hope. No, she wouldn't give in. Shameeca Mitchell was determined to live.
((Shameeca continued elsewhere))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Lexi. 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.