Starting Place For Girl no.38
Starting Place For Girl no.38
When girl number thirty-eight finally came to her senses, she was sitting with her back against a large tree at the edge of some rather dense looking woods. The kit which lay unceremoniously in her lap weighed heavily against her thigh as if it had been sitting there for a long while.
So it wasn’t all a dream...
The events of the last hour? Day? She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but the events of when she was last conscious played on fast forward and repeat in her mind. The last vestiges of gas-induced sleep fled from her body as she clambered to her feet and clutched the bag to her chest as if it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground. Like a deer caught in headlights she froze, all her muscles tense, her mind not quite grasping what it was that she had been about to do. There was no one that she could see, but that didn’t say much considering there were more than enough trees to give even the largest person plenty of cover.
I’ll be safer in shelter than in the open. Probably...
There was another moment of frozen terror before she sprung like wound rubber band and darted into the trees. She could still see the edge of the wood when she stopped and backed herself up against another tree. After another quick glance around she reached up to a thick low-slung branch and scrambled up the tree continuing until she was mostly hidden by the lush vegetation.
Feeling more secure than she had on the ground, Clare set about rummaging through her kit.
Bread, crackers, water, a pamphlet, a flashlight, a shotgun. Wait. A shotgun? Sweet...
Luck was finally swinging her way, well as much as it could when she was collared, thrown on a “deserted” island, and forced to kill people. She flipped through the instruction booklet and a box of cartridges.
Mmm... Twelve gauge. Hope I don’t dislocate my shoulder or somethin’ like that...
Still trying to sort out the chaos in her mind, she closed her bag and settled into a more comfortable position on her tree branch.
So it wasn’t all a dream...
The events of the last hour? Day? She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but the events of when she was last conscious played on fast forward and repeat in her mind. The last vestiges of gas-induced sleep fled from her body as she clambered to her feet and clutched the bag to her chest as if it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground. Like a deer caught in headlights she froze, all her muscles tense, her mind not quite grasping what it was that she had been about to do. There was no one that she could see, but that didn’t say much considering there were more than enough trees to give even the largest person plenty of cover.
I’ll be safer in shelter than in the open. Probably...
There was another moment of frozen terror before she sprung like wound rubber band and darted into the trees. She could still see the edge of the wood when she stopped and backed herself up against another tree. After another quick glance around she reached up to a thick low-slung branch and scrambled up the tree continuing until she was mostly hidden by the lush vegetation.
Feeling more secure than she had on the ground, Clare set about rummaging through her kit.
Bread, crackers, water, a pamphlet, a flashlight, a shotgun. Wait. A shotgun? Sweet...
Luck was finally swinging her way, well as much as it could when she was collared, thrown on a “deserted” island, and forced to kill people. She flipped through the instruction booklet and a box of cartridges.
Mmm... Twelve gauge. Hope I don’t dislocate my shoulder or somethin’ like that...
Still trying to sort out the chaos in her mind, she closed her bag and settled into a more comfortable position on her tree branch.
"This isn't good..."
Ryan Torres, cousin and relative to Jeremy Torres, was lost between running like mad, throwing up and crying, and taking part in the game. The bespectacled boy chose the second choice, having already done the first when he had woken up, and too afraid to do the third.
His stomach heaved itself, leaving behind a burning sensation in his throat and belly. Feeling weak, he sat down in front of a tree far away from his vomit pile. Cue the hiccuping sobs.
The boy wasn't aware of this, but the tree he was sitting under was the exact same tree that a certain girl was sitting in.
"Not good at all." He hoped to God that no one would come out from the trees and attack him. Ryan wasn't even sure of what to do if that happened. All he really knew was that he was going to live.
...Somehow.
Ryan Torres, cousin and relative to Jeremy Torres, was lost between running like mad, throwing up and crying, and taking part in the game. The bespectacled boy chose the second choice, having already done the first when he had woken up, and too afraid to do the third.
His stomach heaved itself, leaving behind a burning sensation in his throat and belly. Feeling weak, he sat down in front of a tree far away from his vomit pile. Cue the hiccuping sobs.
The boy wasn't aware of this, but the tree he was sitting under was the exact same tree that a certain girl was sitting in.
"Not good at all." He hoped to God that no one would come out from the trees and attack him. Ryan wasn't even sure of what to do if that happened. All he really knew was that he was going to live.
...Somehow.
Founder of SOTF - 2005.
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Clare was rattled by the appearance of the sobbing boy. She had seen video footage of the ruthless killers, of the brave fools attacking the aforementioned ruthless killers with sub-par weapons, but they had skipped over the cowering souls who were too afraid to be much more than a slightly moving target. The young girl was shaking terribly, causing the branch to quiver and the leaves to rustle together.
Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come up here...
She needed to calm down, stressful situations always made her shaky and being shaky while in a life or death situation and stuck up a tree is never a good thing. As she fought to calm down slightly she pressed her back against the tree trunk and peered down through the foliage.
Her thoughts were chaotic and disorganized, making the whole situation even more frightening and confusing than it already was. She reached a shaking hand into her kit and searched as quietly as she could for the ammunition in case she had to defend herself. As unlikely as that scenario seemed with this boy, one could never be sure when someone was putting on a front or when someone would pop out of the undergrowth.
Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come up here...
She needed to calm down, stressful situations always made her shaky and being shaky while in a life or death situation and stuck up a tree is never a good thing. As she fought to calm down slightly she pressed her back against the tree trunk and peered down through the foliage.
Her thoughts were chaotic and disorganized, making the whole situation even more frightening and confusing than it already was. She reached a shaking hand into her kit and searched as quietly as she could for the ammunition in case she had to defend herself. As unlikely as that scenario seemed with this boy, one could never be sure when someone was putting on a front or when someone would pop out of the undergrowth.
Ryan yelped at the sound of the rustling leaves, giving away his location to anyone lurking nearby. Swallowing hard, he looked up into the treeleaves, searching for the noisemaker. His tear-blurred eyes missed Clare completely.
"Not fair, either." He took his glasses off and weeped into his hands, blubbering gibberish. I can't do this... The crying child made his cupped hands into fists and fell back onto the ground, thrashing like a wild man. With the foam running down his chin, Ryan looked like he was having an obscure seizure.
Once his little episode was finished, he went right back to crying.
"Not fair, either." He took his glasses off and weeped into his hands, blubbering gibberish. I can't do this... The crying child made his cupped hands into fists and fell back onto the ground, thrashing like a wild man. With the foam running down his chin, Ryan looked like he was having an obscure seizure.
Once his little episode was finished, he went right back to crying.
Founder of SOTF - 2005.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Sydney avatar by Kermit.
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Clare couldn't help but let out a little yelp as the bespectacled boy fell over and writhed on the ground. Concern overpowered her crippling fear and she shoved everything back into her kit which was still slung over her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” She struggled back down the tree, in her rush to help it just made her move slower. Funny how things like that work. By the time she made it to the base of the tree he seemed to have composed himself, well, at least to the point where he no longer looked like he was having a seizure. Her bag thumped against her leg as she reached out a tentative hand towards his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” She struggled back down the tree, in her rush to help it just made her move slower. Funny how things like that work. By the time she made it to the base of the tree he seemed to have composed himself, well, at least to the point where he no longer looked like he was having a seizure. Her bag thumped against her leg as she reached out a tentative hand towards his shoulder.
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((Continued from: Boy 103 Start))
Neville had calmed down a bit. He was presently longing for his hiking boots-they were good boots-not to mention a tent, and few dozen other things. He wasn't so uncomfortable yet; it had to be a security thing, which was bloody good fun to find out about himself. He double-kicked a tree in annoyance; then dropped down and listened for anyone who'd head him. In the quiet, he thought he heard somebody crying.
A minute later, he was watching a kid with glasses, sobbing at the foot of a tree. Seemed harmless enough...but he wouldn't be thinking rationally. Most dangerous type to have a gun tucked in his trousers...Neville relised the word. He couldn't help feeling a little smug that he'd held up slightly better.
A 12-inch barrel prohibited stuffing the Wildley in his own waistband, so he'd tied it to a lanyard round his neck. Neville moved his hands well away, practiced a calm friendly smile several times, then stepped out the bushes, arms outstretched, but tensed;
"Alright, Mate?"
Neville had calmed down a bit. He was presently longing for his hiking boots-they were good boots-not to mention a tent, and few dozen other things. He wasn't so uncomfortable yet; it had to be a security thing, which was bloody good fun to find out about himself. He double-kicked a tree in annoyance; then dropped down and listened for anyone who'd head him. In the quiet, he thought he heard somebody crying.
A minute later, he was watching a kid with glasses, sobbing at the foot of a tree. Seemed harmless enough...but he wouldn't be thinking rationally. Most dangerous type to have a gun tucked in his trousers...Neville relised the word. He couldn't help feeling a little smug that he'd held up slightly better.
A 12-inch barrel prohibited stuffing the Wildley in his own waistband, so he'd tied it to a lanyard round his neck. Neville moved his hands well away, practiced a calm friendly smile several times, then stepped out the bushes, arms outstretched, but tensed;
"Alright, Mate?"
"Are you okay?"
Ryan jumped, whirling around and staring Clare in the face. He couldn't see her with his blurred eyesight, but he guessed from her concern that she wasn't planning on playing anytime soon. You lucked out, Rye.
"Alright, mate?"
Another helpful person emerged from the bushes. Ryan naively assumed that, he too, was as friendly as the girl next to him.
"I'm fine now. Thanks guys." Really, really lucked out! I won't die anymore! "Oh, man, you guys rock." He pulled Clare into a hug, glad for the "support".
Ryan jumped, whirling around and staring Clare in the face. He couldn't see her with his blurred eyesight, but he guessed from her concern that she wasn't planning on playing anytime soon. You lucked out, Rye.
"Alright, mate?"
Another helpful person emerged from the bushes. Ryan naively assumed that, he too, was as friendly as the girl next to him.
"I'm fine now. Thanks guys." Really, really lucked out! I won't die anymore! "Oh, man, you guys rock." He pulled Clare into a hug, glad for the "support".
Founder of SOTF - 2005.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Sydney avatar by Kermit.
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(Sorry it’s so short and it took me so long to type. >_<)
“Aah… Um…” Clare was more than slightly startled by Ryan’s sudden change in mood and the sudden outburst of... friendliness. She tried to not sound dazed and surprised, but her voice was still shaky, “Hello to you too.” She felt almost like she was going to cry, too. Out of fear and out of relief at finding someone not crazy. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder and patted it reassuringly.
“The name is Clare,” She said. “Who are you two?”
“Aah… Um…” Clare was more than slightly startled by Ryan’s sudden change in mood and the sudden outburst of... friendliness. She tried to not sound dazed and surprised, but her voice was still shaky, “Hello to you too.” She felt almost like she was going to cry, too. Out of fear and out of relief at finding someone not crazy. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder and patted it reassuringly.
“The name is Clare,” She said. “Who are you two?”
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Neville hadn't noticed the girl in the tree with the shotgun; his hand jerked towards his own weapon before he took the situation in fully.
"Nev' Eden. Are thi two toghether? I just got dropped; an' I ain't keen on shootin' owt. 'Less I have to." He gave the shotgun another look, and waited for a reply, hoping he hadn't given them too much.
At least the sobbing kid looked better; Neville had only just realised that stepping out of the bush, in this situation, was a comittment to look after someone as long as they needed it. He really couldn't afford to do that, it was almost a worse thought than the gun; so he hoped the bairn could fend for himself.
"How's it with thee then, mate? What d'thee get for a weapon?"
"Nev' Eden. Are thi two toghether? I just got dropped; an' I ain't keen on shootin' owt. 'Less I have to." He gave the shotgun another look, and waited for a reply, hoping he hadn't given them too much.
At least the sobbing kid looked better; Neville had only just realised that stepping out of the bush, in this situation, was a comittment to look after someone as long as they needed it. He really couldn't afford to do that, it was almost a worse thought than the gun; so he hoped the bairn could fend for himself.
"How's it with thee then, mate? What d'thee get for a weapon?"
It took a lot for Ryan to keep from running over and hugging Neville aswell. He fitted his glasses back on with a small grin. Now that he could see them both more clearly, there was no doubt in his mind that these people would be his support team. They'd be there for him when he fell, when he needed to be saved, and when he needed to live.
"My name is Torres, Ryan Torres." He borrowed the joke from the time that he and his cousin had to introduce themselves at the front of the class. A corny one, sure, but it did raise Ryan's spirits. "I don't really know what I got." It was the truth. "Maybe you two should do the honors?"
His thoughts from before gleefully repeated in his head. I don't have to die, I don't have to die!
"My name is Torres, Ryan Torres." He borrowed the joke from the time that he and his cousin had to introduce themselves at the front of the class. A corny one, sure, but it did raise Ryan's spirits. "I don't really know what I got." It was the truth. "Maybe you two should do the honors?"
His thoughts from before gleefully repeated in his head. I don't have to die, I don't have to die!
Founder of SOTF - 2005.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Sydney avatar by Kermit.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Sydney avatar by Kermit.
Clare tried to brush her bangs out of her eyes, but they fell right back into place the moment she moved her hand. A small smile appeared on her face, at least someone was trying to lighten the mood. She had comrades now, seeing as how if either of them had wanted her dead she’d probably be on the ground already.
“I guess we’re all together now, it’s not like I’m going to abandon someone in a fucked up... I can’t bring myself to call it a game. A fucked up thing like this.” Clare said firmly. “And don’t worry, I’m not too keen on shooting at anyone either,” She added defensively.
Though I wouldn’t mind giving this gun a test run. I’ve never used a shotgun before...
The school uniform that Clare was still wearing marked her rather clearly as a student from the alternative school. Though alternative was a nice way to put it, most students in the districts around Barry Coleson High just refered to it as "that place where they send the crazies". Her jeans and tank top were crammed into the bottom of her kit, though she was sporting her neon orange Chucks.
“I guess we’re all together now, it’s not like I’m going to abandon someone in a fucked up... I can’t bring myself to call it a game. A fucked up thing like this.” Clare said firmly. “And don’t worry, I’m not too keen on shooting at anyone either,” She added defensively.
Though I wouldn’t mind giving this gun a test run. I’ve never used a shotgun before...
The school uniform that Clare was still wearing marked her rather clearly as a student from the alternative school. Though alternative was a nice way to put it, most students in the districts around Barry Coleson High just refered to it as "that place where they send the crazies". Her jeans and tank top were crammed into the bottom of her kit, though she was sporting her neon orange Chucks.
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"...It's not like I'm going to abandon anyone in this..."
Rather you than me, lass Neville though, then inwardly grinned at what a chauvinist he was. It might be as well to stick toghether; you watch my back, I'll watch yours. Besides the girl wasn't bad looking; Neville had got a little female attention off his British accent, but never anything meaningful. British Standoffishness, damn it. Probably take more than kidnap by terrorists to shift that, but a chap could hope...
"Thi should look what weapon tha got Ryan. I got t'is," Billy added unecessarily, presenting the Wildley hunting pistol by the barrel. "Can't see nowt wrong with us hangin' toghether for a bit. Thi know where we could find 'owt to eat, or a roof? An'...d'thi know if anyun's actually, ah, playin'? Thee knew each other, or tha from different schools? I'll think of t' other important questions later."
Rather you than me, lass Neville though, then inwardly grinned at what a chauvinist he was. It might be as well to stick toghether; you watch my back, I'll watch yours. Besides the girl wasn't bad looking; Neville had got a little female attention off his British accent, but never anything meaningful. British Standoffishness, damn it. Probably take more than kidnap by terrorists to shift that, but a chap could hope...
"Thi should look what weapon tha got Ryan. I got t'is," Billy added unecessarily, presenting the Wildley hunting pistol by the barrel. "Can't see nowt wrong with us hangin' toghether for a bit. Thi know where we could find 'owt to eat, or a roof? An'...d'thi know if anyun's actually, ah, playin'? Thee knew each other, or tha from different schools? I'll think of t' other important questions later."
Ryan squinted a little, trying to decipher Neville's accent. He didn't travel very much, in fact, he had been living in the same place his whole life without encountering anyone with an accent like that. Shrugging his shoulders, he unzipped his bag and fished in it for his weapon.
A brillaint looking pistol. He grinned, ignoring the manual inside. The boy had played enough video games and seen enough movies to know exactly how guns worked.
"It's a GLOCK." The grin only widened as he aimed the gun at a tree to test it out. "And...no, I don't know anyone who's playing. And I haven't seen either of you around school." He lowered the gun, his grin slowly fading. "I don't think there's a safe place on the island, Nev', but we could always try the Well, maybe?" Anywhere but here...we're like sitting ducks!
A brillaint looking pistol. He grinned, ignoring the manual inside. The boy had played enough video games and seen enough movies to know exactly how guns worked.
"It's a GLOCK." The grin only widened as he aimed the gun at a tree to test it out. "And...no, I don't know anyone who's playing. And I haven't seen either of you around school." He lowered the gun, his grin slowly fading. "I don't think there's a safe place on the island, Nev', but we could always try the Well, maybe?" Anywhere but here...we're like sitting ducks!
Founder of SOTF - 2005.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Sydney avatar by Kermit.
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"Yeah, we should find some better cover," Clare glanced around nervously. The feelings of agitation and paranoia keep coming in fits and starts, one moment she's feeling safe and the next it seems as if there are people lurking in every shadow waiting to kill them. She pressed her back up against the tree, feeling slightly safer now that she wasn't completely exposed from behind. "I still need to load my gun..."
She trailed off as she began to rummage through her kit trying to find the box of shells once again. After she found the shells it took her a moment to get it loaded.
Buckshot! Booyah!
“It only holds three shots,” The brown haired girl mumbled. “But on the bright side, it’s buckshot.” She slung the gun back over her shoulder and slipped a hand into her pocket in an attempt to find a hair tie.
She trailed off as she began to rummage through her kit trying to find the box of shells once again. After she found the shells it took her a moment to get it loaded.
Buckshot! Booyah!
“It only holds three shots,” The brown haired girl mumbled. “But on the bright side, it’s buckshot.” She slung the gun back over her shoulder and slipped a hand into her pocket in an attempt to find a hair tie.
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Neville grinned at the familiar slight bemusement in Ryan's face;
"I'm from England, up north, 'afore thi ask. Little more mud, a little less Buckin'um palace." He'd used the line hundreds of times; using it again left a cool, linging feeling in his throat.
"Nice t' see thy getting used to 'em guns." Neville paused to check that his nose had kept its size; half-truths presumably were alright. "T' Well sounds good enough for me. Shall we go then?"
He stepped aside for the other two armed students, not, on reflection, too eager to present them with his back.
"I'm from England, up north, 'afore thi ask. Little more mud, a little less Buckin'um palace." He'd used the line hundreds of times; using it again left a cool, linging feeling in his throat.
"Nice t' see thy getting used to 'em guns." Neville paused to check that his nose had kept its size; half-truths presumably were alright. "T' Well sounds good enough for me. Shall we go then?"
He stepped aside for the other two armed students, not, on reflection, too eager to present them with his back.