(Dominica Shapiro continued from Goodbye, Hollywood)
Dominica Shapiro (Female Student no. 28) wanted to say that she had a clear advantage over everyone else, but it was impossible. In fact, her chances of surviving was right below everyone else, where the people who weren't strong in spirit were placed. She was willing to kill if she had to, but the only advantage she had was... that she had a speargun. That was it. That was all she had. She had no clear experience in hand-to-hand combat so anyone that was taller than her could rip her to shreds. She had experience in guns, but that experience only extended towards handguns (although she really only knew of those as well) the Remington 700 rifle and the old-fashioned hunting shotgun. Could that even be CONSIDERED an advantage?
So... she had a speargun, and she killed a boy well over her size. Those were her two advantages, and any normal person would have ruled them out on the spot. If she could get her hands on a Remington or something similar, the chances of which being higher than the Empire State Building, she would be a force to be reckoned with. If she stumbled onto a shotgun, she'd be one lucky girl. Handguns... well, at least she'd know how to use them, at least.
This was the problem: she had never used a speargun. Yes, she knew how to shoot it and she figured out how to reload it on her own, but that wasn't enough. She wasn't familiar with it. She hadn't even used it, so for all she knew the recoil could send her flying. The fact of the matter was that Dominica was as good as dead. She needed to find a hideout, someplace where she could hide and jump out at someone.
Enter the Lookout Tower.
When her eyes caught a glimpse of the tower, Dominica started to feel worried. Wait... this tower was considered a dangerzone, right? That's when she remembered that it was cleared just moments ago, by Danya. Dominica gave a smug, satisfied smile. Then if he just made that announcement a few minutes ago, that must mean that I'M THE only person here. What luck! My luck was bound to change, but I didn't think it would be THIS early!
The girl let out a light, semi-demonic giggle. A lookout tower was about as good as a hideout could get. The light from the sun was making it easier to see everyone that would be so unlucky to pass by. Perfect way to pick off the competition without having to formally reveal herself. Things were starting to look up.
Dominica found herself skipping inside the Lookout Tower through the front entrance, suddenly catching sight of the headless, lifeless corpse on the floor. She tried her best to ignore it altogether, seeing as Charlie Burchman brought it upon himself, but she just couldn't. The fool was an extremely rude and self-centered man, the likes of which Dominica wished to have never witnessed. Charlie had always thought Dominica was his friend, but Dominica hated every single little detail about the boy. She found the urge to kick the body as hard as she could, and before she realized it she was sending her leg into the body's ribs over and over again.
"Bastard!" she cursed, wincing slightly at the use of such fowl language. "You should have suffered, tortured to the point that YOU WISHED for death! A simple, quick death is too good for the likes of you!" She spat at the body. "I always despised you Burchman. You and that mentally retarded grin of yours!"
She panted loudly, turning her head away from the slab of meat and dried blood on the floor. "No. Don't let HIM get to you. He's dead, and that's all that matters."
The stairs were very long, and by the time Dominica reached the top, she found herself gasping for air. She fell on the walkway with a violent thud, panting loudly as she let go of the weapon that had been in her hands for the longest of time. She unzipped the bag, and took all of the extra spears (eleven to be exact), and crawled over to the side of the walkway that faced the aged, wooden waves that crowded along the forest. She placed the speargun on one side, then her extra spears on the other. Her hand still clamped around the speargun, her eyes darted from one side to another in search of a target...
That's when sleep came knocking on her door. Dominica fell asleep almost instantaneously, although she tried her best to fight the urge... but it was a losing fight...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Dominica woke up a few hours later in a start, picking up her speargun with both of her hands. She jumped to her feet, breaking out into a sweat as her eyes wandered back and forth. How long she had been sleeping she wasn't too sure, but a loud noise had awakened her from her slumber. A laugh? A laugh? It sounded so far away and yet felt like it came nearby. The laughter scared every single molecule in Dominica's small, petite body, her grip on the speargun never loosening.
"Hello?" She called out at last. "Is somebody there?"
No reply.
"Hey! You'd better answer me! I know that someone's there!"
Still no reply.
Dominica gulped before pressing herself against the wall of the walkway. Suddenly, she was starting to think that playing may not have been the best idea she had ever come up with. She shivered delicately.
Clock Tower
The Struggle Within
Clock Tower
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. 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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AtomicWaffle†
- Posts: 230
- Joined: Sun Jan 27, 2019 6:55 am
((Continued from Der Metzgermeister))
"How could anyone have survived that? Really?"
"We can't assume he's dead right away. I mean, we got a bit of a glimpse through the trees, we don't know for sure. There was enough dirt and dust... I couldn't see a thing afterward."
"Yeah, but I mean, that guy looked down at a grenade, yeah? Almost like he wanted to get blown up..."
"Well..."
"Last time I checked, Will, people don't survive commiting suicide via grenade."
"You're right, he's probably dead. Doesn't mean we don't still have to be on our toes... Ugh..."
"Are you okay? What happened in that shower place?"
"Umm..."
"Will?"
"...Do you REALLY want me to describe a cannibalistic, necrophiliac hermaphrodite defiling a dead body? 'Cause I don't fucking want to."
"Oh... Please don't. I think I see a building up ahead, let's keep moving"
Will and Christian had been travelling through the jungle for a while, only having stopped twice to rest. They had originally planned to see if they could lay low at the barracks for a while, but caught the form of Gabriel Theobaldt, muttering something before vanishing in a large explosion. The force of it almost knocked the two of them off of their feet, and they got the hell out of there afterwards. Travelling aimlessly through the jungle, the two had been in a bit more of a lighthearted mood. It was the most likely death of that sick bastard Gabriel, but the two also were simply trying to avoid the thought of dying themselves as well. The fact that what had seemed like an unstoppable, monstrous, almost demonic (or as close as the two heathens could come to imagining) being. Will looked about the jungle, and sighed.
"Þetta er andskoti slæmt!!"
"Umm...I think my Icelandic's getting better, 'cause I think I agree with you."
"...Really?"
"I've heard you curse enough times in Icelandic to know you just said that this is a really fucking bad situation."
"Ah. Well, more or less what I said. Nice one."
"Thanks."
The two eventually broke away from the thick forest and out into an open area. They saw the large lookout tower before them, and Will sighed. Noises escaped from inside the structure. The large revolver gleamed in Will's hand. He considered handing it to Christian, but after the amount of recoil that he discovered when trying to kill that... thing... in the showers. He hoped that girl was able to get out of there. The shot was the least he could do to remedy the damage that fiend had caused.
Christian stood beside Will, eyeing the door. They stood on opposite sides, and Will prepared to walk into the building. As far as they knew the place used to be a dangerzone, so whomever was in there now, was hopefully alone. Whether they were armed or not, nobody could tell. As he pushed himself against the wall near the door, he grunted in pain. The gunshot wounds didn't feel any better than they did before, if not a little more numb than before. Christian looked down at his extremely thin chest and marveled at the fact the bullets didn't pass through his thin form. The makeshift bandages were bloody, and Christian wanted to remove the grubby things... but he was afraid of what he might find underneath. Could it be infected? Did Will and Ianto clean the wounds properly? Wouldn't he need stitches?
For once on the island Will wasn't worrying about dying or mercilessly racking his mind over all the little stupid descisions people had made. Even the bizzare 'death' of Gabriel Theobaldt had pushed it's way out of his mind. No, for now the issue was figuring out exactly what to do next. For all he knew Nathanial Harris and Blood Boy (Will of course had no idea they were in fact, the same person, and only figured that Blood Boy and he would be great friends based on the sickening things he has done.) were sitting in there having a grand old time, dining on the dead body of that necrophiliac freak he'd shot in the showers. The moment he'd walk in the two would comically stop their meal and kill Christian and he in a massive hail of bullets. It could be Adam Dodd, on one of his bizzare rants, shooting up on morphine when he got tired of his fruitless tirade.
I could use some fucking morphine right now. Or a good fuck. Yeah, that'll keep me awake. Maybe i'll pull a helicopter out of my ass too while i'm at it so we can get out of here.
Ah, sex. Will's personal experience found it only led to awkward moments and getting nearly castrated by pissed-off Irish girls. He hoped she hadn't decided to come on this trip or Will would be fucked in another sense quite soon.
Christian gestured to Will to move into the tower with his good arm. The door beckoned. Cocking the large firearm, Will burst upon the room, finding it empty. Hearing an eerie, disturbing laugh in the distance, Christian opted to stay in the Lookout Tower, and closed the doors behind him. He eyed the locks on them, hoping that they would hold if they needed to close them.
The voice from above echoed through the tower, and Will responded in kind.
"Yeah, it's me, Will. I'd give you my full name but it seems most of the fuckheads across this god-forsaken island can't be bothered to pronounce it!"
The keyboardist's eyes lit up, amused at Will's consistently pissed-off nature. He wasn't often such an angry person, just... arrogant. But he had far more redeeming qualities that Christian just stopped noticing it altogether. Once more Will bellowed out to the stranger above them. Noticably Will had stopped trying to drop his accent, something that took a deal of effort on his part at times, especially when raising his voice. It was unneccessary on this island, so he now seemed quite a bit more foreign than usual, despite the American accent that still seemed to linger a bit.
"Just so you know I wasn't the crazy bastard who laughed just now... I think we can attribute that to Nathanial Harris, officially the only serial killer left on the island if Danny's announcements are to really be believed. Speaking of-"
As Will mentioned Danya's announcements, he remembered the cameras all over the island. One seemed to stare at him right now. Without hesitation, he shot out the evil device, the blast of the hand-cannon reverberating throughout the tower. Prepared this time for the recoil, Will held the gun steady. The camera fizzled and seemed to fall 'limp.'
"Yes. I have a gun. Listen, myself nor my friend here want any trouble, we just want to rest for a moment. We're not going to hurt you, we just want to get out of this alive. What do you say?"
"How could anyone have survived that? Really?"
"We can't assume he's dead right away. I mean, we got a bit of a glimpse through the trees, we don't know for sure. There was enough dirt and dust... I couldn't see a thing afterward."
"Yeah, but I mean, that guy looked down at a grenade, yeah? Almost like he wanted to get blown up..."
"Well..."
"Last time I checked, Will, people don't survive commiting suicide via grenade."
"You're right, he's probably dead. Doesn't mean we don't still have to be on our toes... Ugh..."
"Are you okay? What happened in that shower place?"
"Umm..."
"Will?"
"...Do you REALLY want me to describe a cannibalistic, necrophiliac hermaphrodite defiling a dead body? 'Cause I don't fucking want to."
"Oh... Please don't. I think I see a building up ahead, let's keep moving"
Will and Christian had been travelling through the jungle for a while, only having stopped twice to rest. They had originally planned to see if they could lay low at the barracks for a while, but caught the form of Gabriel Theobaldt, muttering something before vanishing in a large explosion. The force of it almost knocked the two of them off of their feet, and they got the hell out of there afterwards. Travelling aimlessly through the jungle, the two had been in a bit more of a lighthearted mood. It was the most likely death of that sick bastard Gabriel, but the two also were simply trying to avoid the thought of dying themselves as well. The fact that what had seemed like an unstoppable, monstrous, almost demonic (or as close as the two heathens could come to imagining) being. Will looked about the jungle, and sighed.
"Þetta er andskoti slæmt!!"
"Umm...I think my Icelandic's getting better, 'cause I think I agree with you."
"...Really?"
"I've heard you curse enough times in Icelandic to know you just said that this is a really fucking bad situation."
"Ah. Well, more or less what I said. Nice one."
"Thanks."
The two eventually broke away from the thick forest and out into an open area. They saw the large lookout tower before them, and Will sighed. Noises escaped from inside the structure. The large revolver gleamed in Will's hand. He considered handing it to Christian, but after the amount of recoil that he discovered when trying to kill that... thing... in the showers. He hoped that girl was able to get out of there. The shot was the least he could do to remedy the damage that fiend had caused.
Christian stood beside Will, eyeing the door. They stood on opposite sides, and Will prepared to walk into the building. As far as they knew the place used to be a dangerzone, so whomever was in there now, was hopefully alone. Whether they were armed or not, nobody could tell. As he pushed himself against the wall near the door, he grunted in pain. The gunshot wounds didn't feel any better than they did before, if not a little more numb than before. Christian looked down at his extremely thin chest and marveled at the fact the bullets didn't pass through his thin form. The makeshift bandages were bloody, and Christian wanted to remove the grubby things... but he was afraid of what he might find underneath. Could it be infected? Did Will and Ianto clean the wounds properly? Wouldn't he need stitches?
For once on the island Will wasn't worrying about dying or mercilessly racking his mind over all the little stupid descisions people had made. Even the bizzare 'death' of Gabriel Theobaldt had pushed it's way out of his mind. No, for now the issue was figuring out exactly what to do next. For all he knew Nathanial Harris and Blood Boy (Will of course had no idea they were in fact, the same person, and only figured that Blood Boy and he would be great friends based on the sickening things he has done.) were sitting in there having a grand old time, dining on the dead body of that necrophiliac freak he'd shot in the showers. The moment he'd walk in the two would comically stop their meal and kill Christian and he in a massive hail of bullets. It could be Adam Dodd, on one of his bizzare rants, shooting up on morphine when he got tired of his fruitless tirade.
I could use some fucking morphine right now. Or a good fuck. Yeah, that'll keep me awake. Maybe i'll pull a helicopter out of my ass too while i'm at it so we can get out of here.
Ah, sex. Will's personal experience found it only led to awkward moments and getting nearly castrated by pissed-off Irish girls. He hoped she hadn't decided to come on this trip or Will would be fucked in another sense quite soon.
Christian gestured to Will to move into the tower with his good arm. The door beckoned. Cocking the large firearm, Will burst upon the room, finding it empty. Hearing an eerie, disturbing laugh in the distance, Christian opted to stay in the Lookout Tower, and closed the doors behind him. He eyed the locks on them, hoping that they would hold if they needed to close them.
The voice from above echoed through the tower, and Will responded in kind.
"Yeah, it's me, Will. I'd give you my full name but it seems most of the fuckheads across this god-forsaken island can't be bothered to pronounce it!"
The keyboardist's eyes lit up, amused at Will's consistently pissed-off nature. He wasn't often such an angry person, just... arrogant. But he had far more redeeming qualities that Christian just stopped noticing it altogether. Once more Will bellowed out to the stranger above them. Noticably Will had stopped trying to drop his accent, something that took a deal of effort on his part at times, especially when raising his voice. It was unneccessary on this island, so he now seemed quite a bit more foreign than usual, despite the American accent that still seemed to linger a bit.
"Just so you know I wasn't the crazy bastard who laughed just now... I think we can attribute that to Nathanial Harris, officially the only serial killer left on the island if Danny's announcements are to really be believed. Speaking of-"
As Will mentioned Danya's announcements, he remembered the cameras all over the island. One seemed to stare at him right now. Without hesitation, he shot out the evil device, the blast of the hand-cannon reverberating throughout the tower. Prepared this time for the recoil, Will held the gun steady. The camera fizzled and seemed to fall 'limp.'
"Yes. I have a gun. Listen, myself nor my friend here want any trouble, we just want to rest for a moment. We're not going to hurt you, we just want to get out of this alive. What do you say?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler AtomicWaffle.
A voice. A muffled one, but a voice nonetheless. It frightened Dominica not by the suddenness at which it came, but more due to how close the voice actually came. She wasn't entirely sure where the voice was though anyone would have assumed that he or she must have been down below, on the ground level. Making a fairly obvious observation, Dominica made a quick movement for the door. The stairway itself was made of concrete, and gladly didn't make any creaking as she descended downwards. Both of her hands gripped her speargun tightly, an extra spear tucked in her back pocket (just in case).
Dominica decided to reply, seeing no reason to be rude. "Well... I'm quite sure that you weren't the one I was referring to. I can tell from your voice-"
Halfway down the staircase a gunshot rang out, nearly scaring the life out of Dominica. She nearly lost her balance and fell down the staircase, but she regained her footing as quickly as she had lost it. He has a gun? Someone has a gun downstairs? Dominica really wasn't sure how to react. A fear grew over her, a fear that was understandable due to the fact that it was obvious that whoever it was knew how to use a gun... but an excitement grew over her as well.
My luck is REALLY starting to change. A while ago I was worrying that my chances were stagnant, but it appears that isn't the case.
Dominica smirked slightly, continuing to descend the staircase as slowly as she could. There was a chance she could fool this person into a fake state of safety, and that they had nothing to fear from her. She wasn't a popular kid at her school, and most likely not many people knew her name, and therefore couldn't identify her as a killer. Maybe she could go from there. And if whoever was down there DID know who she was, as slim of a chance it was of that happening, she'd just play the innocent girl and state that she was a victim of circumstance. That she truly wasn't playing the game and that Nigel's death had been an accident. Yes. That was the perfect idea. Nigel's death was entirely intentional, but it was supposed to be a simple kill. She didn't mean to kick the boy over the side of the cliff the way she did, so it wasn't like she was bluffing completely.
She neared the bottom of the staircase leading to the bottom floor. She pressed her back against the wall, trying her best to peer into the room without having to expose herself. This proved a wasteful tactic, due to the fact that she really could see anything past the staircase, so she'd have to just go with the mental image that was placed inside her head. Unfortunately this turned out to be a huge burly man that could make Gabriel Theobaldt look like a mouse. The dismembered head that she could see being gripped in his other hand certainly didn't help matters, but Dominica was willing to swallow her pride. For all she knew whoever it was turned out to be wasn't as disturbed as the one she was imagining. Still... she unclipped the safety on the speargun, just to be sure. Luckily the speargun had a safety that was on the side of it rather than on the top, so she still could give him the scare of his life.
The fake tears started to fall down her face, and Dominica tried her best not to show anything other than sheer fear. She let out a soft sigh and then walked down the stairway. She was about to give the performance of her life, and she started it with a soft sob.
"Are you lying?" Dominica asked in a semi-demanding, semi-frightened tone, her hands beginning to tremble while the both of them were pointing her large gun at the unfamiliar boy. He was the one holding the gun after all, and he was standing away from the staircase. "Please tell me that you're lying now! A-After that Nigel boy attacked me from out of... nowhere and tried to k-k-kill me... I had no idea what to do... Please, d-don't hurt me..."
A little overdramatic in Dominica's opinion, but it was going to have to suffice. It appeared believable enough, so maybe they might be foolish and think she's actually telling the honest truth. If they don't...
I could always just kill the both of them. It's a messy job and it won't win me any favors with anyone else, but at least I'll have a gun...
Dominica decided to reply, seeing no reason to be rude. "Well... I'm quite sure that you weren't the one I was referring to. I can tell from your voice-"
Halfway down the staircase a gunshot rang out, nearly scaring the life out of Dominica. She nearly lost her balance and fell down the staircase, but she regained her footing as quickly as she had lost it. He has a gun? Someone has a gun downstairs? Dominica really wasn't sure how to react. A fear grew over her, a fear that was understandable due to the fact that it was obvious that whoever it was knew how to use a gun... but an excitement grew over her as well.
My luck is REALLY starting to change. A while ago I was worrying that my chances were stagnant, but it appears that isn't the case.
Dominica smirked slightly, continuing to descend the staircase as slowly as she could. There was a chance she could fool this person into a fake state of safety, and that they had nothing to fear from her. She wasn't a popular kid at her school, and most likely not many people knew her name, and therefore couldn't identify her as a killer. Maybe she could go from there. And if whoever was down there DID know who she was, as slim of a chance it was of that happening, she'd just play the innocent girl and state that she was a victim of circumstance. That she truly wasn't playing the game and that Nigel's death had been an accident. Yes. That was the perfect idea. Nigel's death was entirely intentional, but it was supposed to be a simple kill. She didn't mean to kick the boy over the side of the cliff the way she did, so it wasn't like she was bluffing completely.
She neared the bottom of the staircase leading to the bottom floor. She pressed her back against the wall, trying her best to peer into the room without having to expose herself. This proved a wasteful tactic, due to the fact that she really could see anything past the staircase, so she'd have to just go with the mental image that was placed inside her head. Unfortunately this turned out to be a huge burly man that could make Gabriel Theobaldt look like a mouse. The dismembered head that she could see being gripped in his other hand certainly didn't help matters, but Dominica was willing to swallow her pride. For all she knew whoever it was turned out to be wasn't as disturbed as the one she was imagining. Still... she unclipped the safety on the speargun, just to be sure. Luckily the speargun had a safety that was on the side of it rather than on the top, so she still could give him the scare of his life.
The fake tears started to fall down her face, and Dominica tried her best not to show anything other than sheer fear. She let out a soft sigh and then walked down the stairway. She was about to give the performance of her life, and she started it with a soft sob.
"Are you lying?" Dominica asked in a semi-demanding, semi-frightened tone, her hands beginning to tremble while the both of them were pointing her large gun at the unfamiliar boy. He was the one holding the gun after all, and he was standing away from the staircase. "Please tell me that you're lying now! A-After that Nigel boy attacked me from out of... nowhere and tried to k-k-kill me... I had no idea what to do... Please, d-don't hurt me..."
A little overdramatic in Dominica's opinion, but it was going to have to suffice. It appeared believable enough, so maybe they might be foolish and think she's actually telling the honest truth. If they don't...
I could always just kill the both of them. It's a messy job and it won't win me any favors with anyone else, but at least I'll have a gun...
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. 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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AtomicWaffle†
- Posts: 230
- Joined: Sun Jan 27, 2019 6:55 am
"When I was picturing who exactly was upstairs I honestly can't say I expected you..."
Will smirked at the girl's apparent sadness, yet saved any cocky attitude for another time. She still held a speargun at him, and despite the unweildly nature of the weapon it was still quite dangerous. For a while now he'd been forced... blackmailed, if you will, to observe this girl, for god-knows what reason the late Gabriel Theobaldt had thought of. Perhaps she saw who he really was? Considering her intelligence it was a likely possibility, if not a silly one. As far as he knew prior to the island Gabriel hadn't really done anything horrible. If not for the SOTF Competition he wondered exactly what Gabriel might have done. Columbine came to mind; and Will didn't put it past him.
Not lowering the gun for a second, Will spoke to Christian. At one point they had decided, just for fun, to exchange a little knowledge of each other's native languages, as far as that term really applied. Will was considerably more skilled with lingustics, and instead of Icelandic they had decided upon Russian. It was a tongue Christian knew well, to take up if they only wanted to speak with each other privately. This came in handy at school, as making blatant insults to people in front of their faces, completely oblivious to it, was endlessly amusing.*
"Lock the doors, don't let anyone in." Will spoke in the rapid Slavic tongue. Christian was confused by the sudden change of language, and raised an eyebrow at the odd command. Christian moved over to the two large doors of the tower, and shut the old, heavy locking bars over the door with some effort.
"Now, Dominica." Will now spoke in English. "Yes I know your name. I know you quite well. Cut the bullshit."
The red-haired, pale figure who now stood at the doors was suprised yet again at Will's strange conduct. "Will, what are you doing?" Christian asked yet again in Russian.
"She is not who you might think she is. You know my little hobby? Gabriel kinda forced me to 'watch her.' As creepy as that might sound, I wasn't really stalking her, and I didn't really want to. Just needed to find out some stuff and relay it to Theobaldt. She's a manipulative, smart, cunning little bitch who I doubt is actually telling the truth here."
The speed and strange nature of the language he spoke made it impossible to follow to anyone but the two of them, luckily. Will, still having kept his gaze on Dominica, now talked directly to her again.
"I know perfectly well that your own overtly dramatic fear, past having a gun pointed at you, is complete bullshit. How do I know this? A person, you might know him - Gabriel Theobaldt. He asked me to... watch you, for a while, though I didn't want to, he knows how to persuade people. I know enough about you and your personality that those tears on your face are... what do they say... 'Crocodile tears?'"
As Will continued his little tirade, Christian watched through a window outside, to be sure no one was approaching the doors of the Watch Tower. He was quite glad to have someone like Will as a friend. He was resourceful, intelligent, and he'd admit, pretty damn dangerous at the moment. But there he was quite worried. This was a guy who, for almost no apparent reason, took notes and made little observations on people. Why? He had no idea. It was useful in a situation like this, but still he couldn't shake the fact that there was something quite grim about it. At some point, somebody had realized he was doing it and Will had forced himself to write in an almost incomprehensible mess of almost every language he knew, the Icelandic, Roman, and Cyrillic characters he wrote utterly confusing anybody who attempted to read it. Will also might've wanted to keep it away from Christian, for he seemed to be quite secretive of what it contained as of late.
"I told him what he needed to know long ago, and only met him once on the island; he attacked me and knocked me out cold. For some reason he showed some semblance of mercy, possibly for my own part in helping him understand his enemies better. The last time I ever saw the man he was in the process of being exploded by a grenade, it seems. Serves that psychopathic bastard right."
After a brief pause Will's accented voice dominated the room once more this time considerably more sharp and threatening, and Christian, confident that nobody was approaching, leaned against a table at his end of the room.
"Now, if you don't want me to blow a large goddamned hole through your body, then I suggest you do exactly as I say! Despite the fact that you have a large speargun pointed at me I can guarantee you that I'll be able to send a 357 round searing towards you before you can attempt to fire that innacurate, overtly unweildly weapon at me with a very little chance of actually hitting, plus that time it takes to reload that thing. Please, take your daypack, your weapon, and anything else on you, and toss it aside, down the stairs.. Then, you'll walk back up those stairs until you reach the top, at which point you're going to lie, face down on the floor and wait for my word. Understand?!"
*I actually know two guys who do this in real life, it's quite funny.
Will smirked at the girl's apparent sadness, yet saved any cocky attitude for another time. She still held a speargun at him, and despite the unweildly nature of the weapon it was still quite dangerous. For a while now he'd been forced... blackmailed, if you will, to observe this girl, for god-knows what reason the late Gabriel Theobaldt had thought of. Perhaps she saw who he really was? Considering her intelligence it was a likely possibility, if not a silly one. As far as he knew prior to the island Gabriel hadn't really done anything horrible. If not for the SOTF Competition he wondered exactly what Gabriel might have done. Columbine came to mind; and Will didn't put it past him.
Not lowering the gun for a second, Will spoke to Christian. At one point they had decided, just for fun, to exchange a little knowledge of each other's native languages, as far as that term really applied. Will was considerably more skilled with lingustics, and instead of Icelandic they had decided upon Russian. It was a tongue Christian knew well, to take up if they only wanted to speak with each other privately. This came in handy at school, as making blatant insults to people in front of their faces, completely oblivious to it, was endlessly amusing.*
"Lock the doors, don't let anyone in." Will spoke in the rapid Slavic tongue. Christian was confused by the sudden change of language, and raised an eyebrow at the odd command. Christian moved over to the two large doors of the tower, and shut the old, heavy locking bars over the door with some effort.
"Now, Dominica." Will now spoke in English. "Yes I know your name. I know you quite well. Cut the bullshit."
The red-haired, pale figure who now stood at the doors was suprised yet again at Will's strange conduct. "Will, what are you doing?" Christian asked yet again in Russian.
"She is not who you might think she is. You know my little hobby? Gabriel kinda forced me to 'watch her.' As creepy as that might sound, I wasn't really stalking her, and I didn't really want to. Just needed to find out some stuff and relay it to Theobaldt. She's a manipulative, smart, cunning little bitch who I doubt is actually telling the truth here."
The speed and strange nature of the language he spoke made it impossible to follow to anyone but the two of them, luckily. Will, still having kept his gaze on Dominica, now talked directly to her again.
"I know perfectly well that your own overtly dramatic fear, past having a gun pointed at you, is complete bullshit. How do I know this? A person, you might know him - Gabriel Theobaldt. He asked me to... watch you, for a while, though I didn't want to, he knows how to persuade people. I know enough about you and your personality that those tears on your face are... what do they say... 'Crocodile tears?'"
As Will continued his little tirade, Christian watched through a window outside, to be sure no one was approaching the doors of the Watch Tower. He was quite glad to have someone like Will as a friend. He was resourceful, intelligent, and he'd admit, pretty damn dangerous at the moment. But there he was quite worried. This was a guy who, for almost no apparent reason, took notes and made little observations on people. Why? He had no idea. It was useful in a situation like this, but still he couldn't shake the fact that there was something quite grim about it. At some point, somebody had realized he was doing it and Will had forced himself to write in an almost incomprehensible mess of almost every language he knew, the Icelandic, Roman, and Cyrillic characters he wrote utterly confusing anybody who attempted to read it. Will also might've wanted to keep it away from Christian, for he seemed to be quite secretive of what it contained as of late.
"I told him what he needed to know long ago, and only met him once on the island; he attacked me and knocked me out cold. For some reason he showed some semblance of mercy, possibly for my own part in helping him understand his enemies better. The last time I ever saw the man he was in the process of being exploded by a grenade, it seems. Serves that psychopathic bastard right."
After a brief pause Will's accented voice dominated the room once more this time considerably more sharp and threatening, and Christian, confident that nobody was approaching, leaned against a table at his end of the room.
"Now, if you don't want me to blow a large goddamned hole through your body, then I suggest you do exactly as I say! Despite the fact that you have a large speargun pointed at me I can guarantee you that I'll be able to send a 357 round searing towards you before you can attempt to fire that innacurate, overtly unweildly weapon at me with a very little chance of actually hitting, plus that time it takes to reload that thing. Please, take your daypack, your weapon, and anything else on you, and toss it aside, down the stairs.. Then, you'll walk back up those stairs until you reach the top, at which point you're going to lie, face down on the floor and wait for my word. Understand?!"
*I actually know two guys who do this in real life, it's quite funny.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler AtomicWaffle.
That self-absorbed prick had someone follow me?!! Dominica grimaced, gripping the speargun even tighter. Gabriel Theobaldt sent someone to follow her? How much did Will know about her? Did he see her with... A huge chill ran down Dominica's spine, feeling extremely dirty and sickened all of a sudden. She kept imagining the boy having follower her home, watching into her room from a nearby window. It was impossible to tell whether or not any of this was the case, but she really wasn't sure what to expect. One thing was for certain: she was right about her act being just a waste of energy.
"I kind of knew that was all just a waste of time." The girl rolled her eyes, and then gave a large smirk. "Hehe... so. Theobaldt sent you to follow me around? He told you to stalk me, I suppose. That isn't exactly a noble thing of you to do, even if you were persuaded. Now I'm beginning to wonder how much do you know about me, or if you're just bluffing. The only thing you could know about me is that I'm not as innocent as I'm making it out to be, and that you're just guessing about the rest."
Dominica shook her head. "So he died, right? Good. I never liked him anyway, and I guess the both of you could have said the same... but I'll make this point very clear: I can recognize that your intentions are good, but you have no influence to tell me what to do. I've got to this point on my own and I certainly don't need a scruffy-looking dense-headed fool to tell me otherwise. I don't think I would go telling you what to do if I was the one with the... the .357? That is a Colt .357, correct? Yes, I believe so. I don't know every type of gun so that was just an approximation. And while I recognize the fact that yes, you can put a huge gaping hole inside of me if I exasperate you in one of the most insignificant of ways...
"... But I can promise you that I could do so much more to hurt you. In fact, if I were to aim this gun in just the right way, I could literally rip your head off its hinges. An exaggerated result I'd admit and I doubt it would be feasible from where I'm standing, but it is quite possible to kill you with one spear... I wouldn't doubt it if this spear would go right through you and keep flying... or maybe I'll take my chances and shoot your friend in the head. I'm not saying that I WANT to kill him, since I've made it my goal here not to kill innocents..."
Dominica was trying her hardest not to let her fear show whatsoever, and she was unsure if her efforts were working or not.
"What I'm TRYING to tell you is that, no matter what you do here, the result you'll be getting will be very bittersweet. I will say that, like you, I simply came here to get away from it all. I didn't plan on killing anyone-" which was slightly a lie. "and I merely came here with good intentions of sleeping. In other words, if you had JUST kept your loud mouth shut and trust me, I would have just gone on my way and left you two to do whatever boys do when they're alone. I'm not like many of the killers on this island who goes after everyone I see. Under normal circumstances, I'd simply kill when the time called for it: the rest of the opportunities could go hang...But, now...
She gripped the speargun even tighter, focused directly at Will. "You've just peaked my interests. You say that you'll shoot me unless if I do what you say and you say that if I SHOOT you I'll come no where close to you... well, I'd hate to break it to you, but I'll have to disapprove of that last notion. I'm not saying that I'm one-hundred percent sure that I will hit... but I can tell you now that I have a much better chance of ending you than most people."
A loud, demonic cackle escaped her lips. "Offff course... I suspect you should already know this, having stalked me for so long. If you don't... then I'll just let you find out what I mean. All I'm saying is that if you pull that trigger, despite whether you hit me or not, I'll dedicate my life to making you regret it. I don't think you'd understand how much I'd really hate to do it, but I will if I must..."
"... Then again, you could always drop that gun and stop being such a tightass. Really. We're on the same boat, you and I. We're in a situation where we truly don't wish to kill others... Think about it. What would your friend over there think if kill someone for simply looking at you the wrong way and not being on your good side? If you really came here with the reasoning of not wanting trouble, then killing a small girl with a pointy object isn't helping your case."
"I kind of knew that was all just a waste of time." The girl rolled her eyes, and then gave a large smirk. "Hehe... so. Theobaldt sent you to follow me around? He told you to stalk me, I suppose. That isn't exactly a noble thing of you to do, even if you were persuaded. Now I'm beginning to wonder how much do you know about me, or if you're just bluffing. The only thing you could know about me is that I'm not as innocent as I'm making it out to be, and that you're just guessing about the rest."
Dominica shook her head. "So he died, right? Good. I never liked him anyway, and I guess the both of you could have said the same... but I'll make this point very clear: I can recognize that your intentions are good, but you have no influence to tell me what to do. I've got to this point on my own and I certainly don't need a scruffy-looking dense-headed fool to tell me otherwise. I don't think I would go telling you what to do if I was the one with the... the .357? That is a Colt .357, correct? Yes, I believe so. I don't know every type of gun so that was just an approximation. And while I recognize the fact that yes, you can put a huge gaping hole inside of me if I exasperate you in one of the most insignificant of ways...
"... But I can promise you that I could do so much more to hurt you. In fact, if I were to aim this gun in just the right way, I could literally rip your head off its hinges. An exaggerated result I'd admit and I doubt it would be feasible from where I'm standing, but it is quite possible to kill you with one spear... I wouldn't doubt it if this spear would go right through you and keep flying... or maybe I'll take my chances and shoot your friend in the head. I'm not saying that I WANT to kill him, since I've made it my goal here not to kill innocents..."
Dominica was trying her hardest not to let her fear show whatsoever, and she was unsure if her efforts were working or not.
"What I'm TRYING to tell you is that, no matter what you do here, the result you'll be getting will be very bittersweet. I will say that, like you, I simply came here to get away from it all. I didn't plan on killing anyone-" which was slightly a lie. "and I merely came here with good intentions of sleeping. In other words, if you had JUST kept your loud mouth shut and trust me, I would have just gone on my way and left you two to do whatever boys do when they're alone. I'm not like many of the killers on this island who goes after everyone I see. Under normal circumstances, I'd simply kill when the time called for it: the rest of the opportunities could go hang...But, now...
She gripped the speargun even tighter, focused directly at Will. "You've just peaked my interests. You say that you'll shoot me unless if I do what you say and you say that if I SHOOT you I'll come no where close to you... well, I'd hate to break it to you, but I'll have to disapprove of that last notion. I'm not saying that I'm one-hundred percent sure that I will hit... but I can tell you now that I have a much better chance of ending you than most people."
A loud, demonic cackle escaped her lips. "Offff course... I suspect you should already know this, having stalked me for so long. If you don't... then I'll just let you find out what I mean. All I'm saying is that if you pull that trigger, despite whether you hit me or not, I'll dedicate my life to making you regret it. I don't think you'd understand how much I'd really hate to do it, but I will if I must..."
"... Then again, you could always drop that gun and stop being such a tightass. Really. We're on the same boat, you and I. We're in a situation where we truly don't wish to kill others... Think about it. What would your friend over there think if kill someone for simply looking at you the wrong way and not being on your good side? If you really came here with the reasoning of not wanting trouble, then killing a small girl with a pointy object isn't helping your case."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. 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.
((Steve from Those Who Stray...))
Travelling through the dense brush, Steve made his way to the base of the watchtower. A logical place to begin his search, he figured other people were likely to congregate here. And he was right. Even though he stood outside the door leading to the main entrance, he could distinctively make out voices coming from inside. Wonderful. Now to find out who they are and what they intend to do. There's the trick. Don't want to be getting a mighty big hole blasted into me. That's just bad business.
It was during his trek through the jungle that he had the... fortune... of hearing the second announcement. As he was marking off spots on his map and making mental notes of names, one rang particuarly clear in his mind. Kara Holmes had died, and rather violently at that. Steve wasn't too close to Kara. More than once she'd accuse him of monopolizing her boyfriend's time. But now she was dead, and Steve was a bit put off. Sure, they weren't very tight, but she was a friend nonetheless. And when a friend dies, it's always tough. He'd mourned her passing already back in the jungle, and had resolved that now more than ever he'd need to find his other friends. He had no doubt that both Gabe and Serenity were probably pretty broken up by now. Evelyn's death came as quite a shock too, considering their long history of cooperative teamwork and mutual respect for one another. This senseless game... no, not game... mass murder! Absolutely senseless!
His careful eavesdropping at the tower led him to believe that neither Gabe nor Serenity was inside, mainly because the talking sounded too calm for the news that had just broken. Gabe and Serenity were likely not there, but there was still hope he'd find another friend. He remained optimistic, despite the carnage and tragedy that seemed to lurk around every corner. Steve was by no means a dumb man. He'd been dealt a shitty hand by Danya as far as weapons went, so he made sure to find a suitable substitute in the form of a large thick branch from the forest floor. It was roughly the same shape and heft of a baseball bat, maybe a bit wider and with little twigs sticking out of it sure, but likely to be effective anyways. As he held his makeshift club at the ready, he quietly listened at the closed door. He could distinctly make out at least two voices, maybe a third. One was definately a girl, and another a boy. He could barely hear anything coming from the suspected third person in the room. He also couldn't hear any specific words, which agonized him to no end, nor could he tell who the voices belonged to. His best bet was to find somewhere to hide until he could be sure it was safe.
Steve made his way back over to the treeline where the forest began and the clearing for the tower ended. From there he crouched behind a large bush, keeping the door to the tower in plain sight. Club at his side, he sat in wait, anticipating either one of two scenarios: the door opening, or gunfire. At the former, he'd wait out to scan for a familiar face. At the latter, he'd resolved to get the hell out of there.
Travelling through the dense brush, Steve made his way to the base of the watchtower. A logical place to begin his search, he figured other people were likely to congregate here. And he was right. Even though he stood outside the door leading to the main entrance, he could distinctively make out voices coming from inside. Wonderful. Now to find out who they are and what they intend to do. There's the trick. Don't want to be getting a mighty big hole blasted into me. That's just bad business.
It was during his trek through the jungle that he had the... fortune... of hearing the second announcement. As he was marking off spots on his map and making mental notes of names, one rang particuarly clear in his mind. Kara Holmes had died, and rather violently at that. Steve wasn't too close to Kara. More than once she'd accuse him of monopolizing her boyfriend's time. But now she was dead, and Steve was a bit put off. Sure, they weren't very tight, but she was a friend nonetheless. And when a friend dies, it's always tough. He'd mourned her passing already back in the jungle, and had resolved that now more than ever he'd need to find his other friends. He had no doubt that both Gabe and Serenity were probably pretty broken up by now. Evelyn's death came as quite a shock too, considering their long history of cooperative teamwork and mutual respect for one another. This senseless game... no, not game... mass murder! Absolutely senseless!
His careful eavesdropping at the tower led him to believe that neither Gabe nor Serenity was inside, mainly because the talking sounded too calm for the news that had just broken. Gabe and Serenity were likely not there, but there was still hope he'd find another friend. He remained optimistic, despite the carnage and tragedy that seemed to lurk around every corner. Steve was by no means a dumb man. He'd been dealt a shitty hand by Danya as far as weapons went, so he made sure to find a suitable substitute in the form of a large thick branch from the forest floor. It was roughly the same shape and heft of a baseball bat, maybe a bit wider and with little twigs sticking out of it sure, but likely to be effective anyways. As he held his makeshift club at the ready, he quietly listened at the closed door. He could distinctly make out at least two voices, maybe a third. One was definately a girl, and another a boy. He could barely hear anything coming from the suspected third person in the room. He also couldn't hear any specific words, which agonized him to no end, nor could he tell who the voices belonged to. His best bet was to find somewhere to hide until he could be sure it was safe.
Steve made his way back over to the treeline where the forest began and the clearing for the tower ended. From there he crouched behind a large bush, keeping the door to the tower in plain sight. Club at his side, he sat in wait, anticipating either one of two scenarios: the door opening, or gunfire. At the former, he'd wait out to scan for a familiar face. At the latter, he'd resolved to get the hell out of there.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler RePeate. 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.
(Officially taking over for RePeate)
Steve had waited a couple minutes before slowly creeping towards the door. As he neared the door, he overheard a girl inside speaking about a .357 colt, and almost challenging whoever else was in there to shoot her.
"Yeah, not going in there for sure." Steve mumbled to himself.
He desperately needed to find Gabe now. With Kara dead, his friend needed him the most now. Gabe was liable to start going on a manhunt for anyone and everyone in the way, and that would get him killed.
(Steve continued elsewhere)
Steve had waited a couple minutes before slowly creeping towards the door. As he neared the door, he overheard a girl inside speaking about a .357 colt, and almost challenging whoever else was in there to shoot her.
"Yeah, not going in there for sure." Steve mumbled to himself.
He desperately needed to find Gabe now. With Kara dead, his friend needed him the most now. Gabe was liable to start going on a manhunt for anyone and everyone in the way, and that would get him killed.
(Steve continued elsewhere)
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
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AtomicWaffle†
- Posts: 230
- Joined: Sun Jan 27, 2019 6:55 am
((Bleh.))
The revolver stayed steady in Will's heads. One shot. One shot and her brains would be blown out of her skull. She wouldn't even have time to react, and that speargun of hers wouldn't fire in time. Then Christian and he would have another weapon and...
No. There IS a line.
"Will?" Christian asked, breaking the silence that had swept over the room in the wake of Dominica's retort.
"What?" Will responded.
"Maybe you should... put down the gun. It'll only lead to more trouble..." The Russian awkwardly escaped his lips. Despite his experience with the language itself, it was still all too easy to awkardly trip over the words.
"Why? As soon as I do she'll shoot me!"
"How do you know that?!"
"I just... I do, okay? She's the type of person who'd play this game, I know it!"
"Just do it, and maybe she'll play nice. If not, I don't think she can reload that speargun quickly enough, and even then she won't even be able to hit you!
"...Fine."
Will's thumb reached the hammer and let it gently ease back towards the gun. He didn't trust her, and the revolver still pointed at her chest. Until she lowered the speargun, he wouldn't lower his revolver.
Meanwhile, Christian stood still by the door. He thought he might've seen someone move by, but they were gone now. Ugh... his wounds ached, and it seemed like they were nujmbing up... but it didn't feel right. He felt...
"Vilhjalmur... Dominica, yeah? I'm not... feeling... too great... I need to lie-"
With a faint shuffling noise, Christian collapsed on the cold floor of the tower.
The revolver stayed steady in Will's heads. One shot. One shot and her brains would be blown out of her skull. She wouldn't even have time to react, and that speargun of hers wouldn't fire in time. Then Christian and he would have another weapon and...
No. There IS a line.
"Will?" Christian asked, breaking the silence that had swept over the room in the wake of Dominica's retort.
"What?" Will responded.
"Maybe you should... put down the gun. It'll only lead to more trouble..." The Russian awkwardly escaped his lips. Despite his experience with the language itself, it was still all too easy to awkardly trip over the words.
"Why? As soon as I do she'll shoot me!"
"How do you know that?!"
"I just... I do, okay? She's the type of person who'd play this game, I know it!"
"Just do it, and maybe she'll play nice. If not, I don't think she can reload that speargun quickly enough, and even then she won't even be able to hit you!
"...Fine."
Will's thumb reached the hammer and let it gently ease back towards the gun. He didn't trust her, and the revolver still pointed at her chest. Until she lowered the speargun, he wouldn't lower his revolver.
Meanwhile, Christian stood still by the door. He thought he might've seen someone move by, but they were gone now. Ugh... his wounds ached, and it seemed like they were nujmbing up... but it didn't feel right. He felt...
"Vilhjalmur... Dominica, yeah? I'm not... feeling... too great... I need to lie-"
With a faint shuffling noise, Christian collapsed on the cold floor of the tower.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler AtomicWaffle.
Dominica flashed a vile grin as she noticed Will pulling back the hammer on his gun. She lowered her own weapon, feeling slightly proud that she had at least fooled the boy enough to trust her just a bit, although his friend probably was the main reason for that. Dominica didn't relock the safety on her speargun, but she was being very cautious about firing in otherwise. This was the perfect oppertunity to escape with her life...
Or... I could always kill him. His guard is down, after all.
That was about the worst thing Dominica could do in this situation, and she knew this all too well. While Will had released the hammer on the pistol, it wouldn't take too much energy to align it up again. If she did anything stupid, she would most likely have a huge hole in the center of her head. Regardless of the logic (or lack thereof) and danger from actually attacking him at this point, Dominica was closer to Will than she was up the staircase. She wasn't going to take her chances on that alone, and let out a soft laugh.
"There! Now was THAT so hard?" she exclaimed, shrugging just a bit in an attempt to push her dufflebag back onto her right shoulder. "You should be more trusting in the future, boy. If anything, I could have simply wanted to help you, and you would just end up alienating me away. Trust could as well save your-"
Just then, the other boy suddenly collapsed onto the floor. Like anyone else, Dominica turned her head to attention once she heard the rather loud thud that came from across the room. She had been way too busy focusing on Will and his pistol to have noticed that Christian looked in very bad condition, and the fashion in which the boy collided with the floor made Dominica both confused and worried. Not like she truly cared a cent whether or not he was injured, but it was just in her nature.
Dominica gulped, then spoke again in a delicate and caring voice, which was completely unlike her. "Uhh... What's wrong with your friend over there?"
Or... I could always kill him. His guard is down, after all.
That was about the worst thing Dominica could do in this situation, and she knew this all too well. While Will had released the hammer on the pistol, it wouldn't take too much energy to align it up again. If she did anything stupid, she would most likely have a huge hole in the center of her head. Regardless of the logic (or lack thereof) and danger from actually attacking him at this point, Dominica was closer to Will than she was up the staircase. She wasn't going to take her chances on that alone, and let out a soft laugh.
"There! Now was THAT so hard?" she exclaimed, shrugging just a bit in an attempt to push her dufflebag back onto her right shoulder. "You should be more trusting in the future, boy. If anything, I could have simply wanted to help you, and you would just end up alienating me away. Trust could as well save your-"
Just then, the other boy suddenly collapsed onto the floor. Like anyone else, Dominica turned her head to attention once she heard the rather loud thud that came from across the room. She had been way too busy focusing on Will and his pistol to have noticed that Christian looked in very bad condition, and the fashion in which the boy collided with the floor made Dominica both confused and worried. Not like she truly cared a cent whether or not he was injured, but it was just in her nature.
Dominica gulped, then spoke again in a delicate and caring voice, which was completely unlike her. "Uhh... What's wrong with your friend over there?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. 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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AtomicWaffle†
- Posts: 230
- Joined: Sun Jan 27, 2019 6:55 am
Christian Rydell. He'd met him shortly after he came to America. Will had been trying to see more of Highland Beach, and ran into Christian's Band playing in an old, decreipit club of sorts. It was an Industrial band, reminiscent of a lot of the bands he knew growing up. They had a huge following back in his home country, and to hear that music again, albeit it being unfamiliar, it brought back memories. Fond memories. That country... his friends, his home town... they were all tainted by that animal who destroyed his innocence. Some days he wished he could go back there, to see the familiar sights once again... but in the back of his mind he would always remember what happened so long ago. He never spoke of it to anyone else before, and tried his hardest to push away all traces of his history.
Will made friends with the band's keyboardist, Christian, and despite what others would see as contrasting personalities, Christian being more easy going, less egotistical than Will, they were great friends. Christian Rydell was just a great guy. He helped Will get back on his feet, to get on with his life after that tragedy. Though it was so long ago, Will never truly recovered from it - part of the reason why he's so arrogant and egotistical is simply as a way to not seem weak; to gather the strength to stand up should something like that ever happen again.
Incidentally, something terrible would happen to Will again. Here he stood in a Lookout Tower of what he mentally dubbed "SOTF Island" for nothing displayed exactly where they were, as far as names were concerned. He'd narrowly avoided a gun/spear fight, and now struggled with keeping his friend alive. The girl who he had no doubt was thinking of creative ways to kill him right now, 'helpfully' pointed out that Christian had collapsed on the floor, making a light thud as he did so. Holstering the heavy revolver he held - carefully - he strode over to Christian. Will hastily propped him up against the wall of the tower, and removed the makeshift bandages he and Ianto had applied.
"Oh... fuck."
Underneath them were the two gunshot wounds Christian had sustained earlier in the game. They didn't look good... to say the least. Christian needed proper medical attention. Not likely to find it on this island, but if he could sew the wounds up, maybe find some drugs (Will remembered fondly Adam Dodd's morphine rant that he watched in Version One) then Christian might have more of a chance to survive.
Anxiously Will applied a makeshift bandage from the cloth of Christian's light shirt, and then wrapped the boy's jacket around him again. With some effort, he lifted the light Christian off of the floor, careful not to grab his injured shoulder or waist. The injured teenager stirred and half-conciously stood against Will. Half-carrying, half-walking Christian to the door, he turned briefly towards Dominica Shapiro, hoping that a spear wasn't headed his way. His arm shot out to the door and lifted it's lock open. They had to get out of the way, to an infirmary, or some other building that wasn't otherwise occupied by anyone he considered dangerous. They had to find help, above all.
"Follow me and I will fucking murder you. You should know well that on this island that is no empty threat. Cunt."
((Will and Christian continued in Point of Collapse))
Will made friends with the band's keyboardist, Christian, and despite what others would see as contrasting personalities, Christian being more easy going, less egotistical than Will, they were great friends. Christian Rydell was just a great guy. He helped Will get back on his feet, to get on with his life after that tragedy. Though it was so long ago, Will never truly recovered from it - part of the reason why he's so arrogant and egotistical is simply as a way to not seem weak; to gather the strength to stand up should something like that ever happen again.
Incidentally, something terrible would happen to Will again. Here he stood in a Lookout Tower of what he mentally dubbed "SOTF Island" for nothing displayed exactly where they were, as far as names were concerned. He'd narrowly avoided a gun/spear fight, and now struggled with keeping his friend alive. The girl who he had no doubt was thinking of creative ways to kill him right now, 'helpfully' pointed out that Christian had collapsed on the floor, making a light thud as he did so. Holstering the heavy revolver he held - carefully - he strode over to Christian. Will hastily propped him up against the wall of the tower, and removed the makeshift bandages he and Ianto had applied.
"Oh... fuck."
Underneath them were the two gunshot wounds Christian had sustained earlier in the game. They didn't look good... to say the least. Christian needed proper medical attention. Not likely to find it on this island, but if he could sew the wounds up, maybe find some drugs (Will remembered fondly Adam Dodd's morphine rant that he watched in Version One) then Christian might have more of a chance to survive.
Anxiously Will applied a makeshift bandage from the cloth of Christian's light shirt, and then wrapped the boy's jacket around him again. With some effort, he lifted the light Christian off of the floor, careful not to grab his injured shoulder or waist. The injured teenager stirred and half-conciously stood against Will. Half-carrying, half-walking Christian to the door, he turned briefly towards Dominica Shapiro, hoping that a spear wasn't headed his way. His arm shot out to the door and lifted it's lock open. They had to get out of the way, to an infirmary, or some other building that wasn't otherwise occupied by anyone he considered dangerous. They had to find help, above all.
"Follow me and I will fucking murder you. You should know well that on this island that is no empty threat. Cunt."
((Will and Christian continued in Point of Collapse))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler AtomicWaffle.
((Accidentally pressed the post button. I'll fix this in a jiffy.))
"Follow me and I will fucking murder you. You should know well that on this island that is no empty threat. Cunt."
Dominica's eyes widened. What did that Icelandic pissant just call me? A cunt? A CUNT?!! She was about to retort but the boy was already long gone, leaving the raven-haired demoness to take her rage out on the chair placed nearby. She kicked it as hard as she could, sending it sliding across the room landing into a wall. Her ankle twinged in pain but Dominica was too busy being angry to care much. Steam could be seen coming out of her ears as she spoke to herself in a whisper.
"That bastard will get what's coming to him... he'll get what he deserves. Him and his wounded playmate will die, and I'll make damn sure that it's me that does the honors..." She laughed in a delicate tone, with a pinch of demonic intentions. "Hehe... Doesn't matter, now does it? Why am I getting mad about a couple of fools who can't trust anyone? THAT one boy is going to die of blood loss, and WILL will lose his mind and attack everyone... I should be happy that I'm all alone again."
Having slept for several hours was the kick that Dominica needed. She felt a little bit perky, although the anger from Will's insult still did major damage to her. She treked back upstairs to her post, sighing as she took a seat on the ground, letting her daypack fall to her side again. Maybe I might be able to hit something from up here.
"Follow me and I will fucking murder you. You should know well that on this island that is no empty threat. Cunt."
Dominica's eyes widened. What did that Icelandic pissant just call me? A cunt? A CUNT?!! She was about to retort but the boy was already long gone, leaving the raven-haired demoness to take her rage out on the chair placed nearby. She kicked it as hard as she could, sending it sliding across the room landing into a wall. Her ankle twinged in pain but Dominica was too busy being angry to care much. Steam could be seen coming out of her ears as she spoke to herself in a whisper.
"That bastard will get what's coming to him... he'll get what he deserves. Him and his wounded playmate will die, and I'll make damn sure that it's me that does the honors..." She laughed in a delicate tone, with a pinch of demonic intentions. "Hehe... Doesn't matter, now does it? Why am I getting mad about a couple of fools who can't trust anyone? THAT one boy is going to die of blood loss, and WILL will lose his mind and attack everyone... I should be happy that I'm all alone again."
Having slept for several hours was the kick that Dominica needed. She felt a little bit perky, although the anger from Will's insult still did major damage to her. She treked back upstairs to her post, sighing as she took a seat on the ground, letting her daypack fall to her side again. Maybe I might be able to hit something from up here.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. 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.
The band on the speargun was about the hardest thing about loading it. Under water the band would easily slip onto the trigger with no problems, but above water it was much more difficult. She had been practicing loading and reloading the gun for a hour or so and while she seemed rather familiar with how it worked, the band was still a bother. Well... I suppose there's no point in complaining about it. I should just be glad that I have a speargun to begin with... She yawned, rather bored by nothing transpiring ever since Will and his other friend had left the Lookout Tower...
That's when she decided: She was going to kill something. Anything. She seemed rather familiar with the speargun by now despite having never fired it. Loading it was much easier now that she had some practice, but was that going to be enough to salvage her? Only twelve spears (one of which having been used already), so there was no point in wasting them. Then again, she wasn't going to just find some random person and fire. Dominica had to pick her target carefully... like a deer? Like hunting deer? Possibly like that, yes. Dominica trudged out of the building, looking from side to side to make sure that no one else was around. She wouldn't be able to sneak around if someone saw her in plain sight.
Maybe killing someone would put her fears to rest. Maybe killing someone else would make it easier for her to do it later in the game. Perhaps not. She wasn't looking forward to it, but maybe it might be fun. Fun to kill another human being. In any case, Dominica wasn't enjoying this game as much as she had hoped.
((Continued in One by One, We All Fall Down))
That's when she decided: She was going to kill something. Anything. She seemed rather familiar with the speargun by now despite having never fired it. Loading it was much easier now that she had some practice, but was that going to be enough to salvage her? Only twelve spears (one of which having been used already), so there was no point in wasting them. Then again, she wasn't going to just find some random person and fire. Dominica had to pick her target carefully... like a deer? Like hunting deer? Possibly like that, yes. Dominica trudged out of the building, looking from side to side to make sure that no one else was around. She wouldn't be able to sneak around if someone saw her in plain sight.
Maybe killing someone would put her fears to rest. Maybe killing someone else would make it easier for her to do it later in the game. Perhaps not. She wasn't looking forward to it, but maybe it might be fun. Fun to kill another human being. In any case, Dominica wasn't enjoying this game as much as she had hoped.
((Continued in One by One, We All Fall Down))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. 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.