((Omar Burton continued from Ten Shades of Gray))
It was the opposite of what Omar should be doing. But it gave him room to think. Maybe he'd been too hasty. His hands still itched from the gun's quake a day later. He'd been proud of how easy killing came at first. It only took a quick tug, and the rest was outside him. He was almost proud of hearing his name, too. It was a concreted achievement. He took action. He felt it all and knew he could do it. He was ready, for himself and for Sierra. But would she know that? All she got was his name. Could she tell it was for her? Even if she did, would she embrace it? She had to. She knew him, more than anyone she knew him and she had to know. If she didn't, she'd know as soon as he found her. But then there was the rest of Bayview. His intentions made him no better to them. They were a collective obstacle, even with the gun. They had to be avoided for now. He'd been effective at it so far. He'd seen a dead soul or two but not a living one. He kept an eye and an ear and every other sense open for Sierra, though. He'd so hoped to hear her voice but was luckless so far. God, did he need her. He should have been looking for her. He needed to be looking for her.
But he'd been grabbed to the strangest sensation to look at the stars and he just couldn't move himself yet.
He had hiked fairly high up but the incline he was on was mellow. He was flat on his back against the dark soil. His bags were within reach by his side. The gun was in the smaller, the black L.L. Bean bag with O.B. stitched across the top in white. He hadn't looked at it since being declared a murderer. He wasn't sure why. He was afraid it had somehow changed, he supposed. He knew it was silly. He was the same, after all, so why shouldn't the gun be? But he was afraid of the change, of losing what he had worked so hard for, and he knew all too well that nothing was constant.
Like the stars. They were old light, in the same places for all of human history, maybe the most concrete thing we have. But they never stopped changing. Their own lifecycles aside (many of them were likely long dead already), the universe expands so much faster than the speed of light, pushing everything apart with it. Every second the stars are farther away and their light takes longer to reach us. Eventually, the earth will be evading their rays entirely, unable to fill the stretching in between fast enough. Soon there would be no stars. For Omar they would be gone even sooner. Maybe that's why he stopped.
He closed his eyes to see Sierra instead. She was brighter than any star he knew of. Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art. She too was always moving farther away. But he would be fast. He could be faster than all of them. He tried to draw her more vividly. He went over her warm tea eyes, her sienna hair. He traced her nose and her full lips and the line of her jaw. The contour of her neck. The curves of her breasts and hips and legs. Her smile, most of all her smile, over and again, awake for ever in a sweet unrest.
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever- or else swoon to death.
He couldn't help but blame her a little.
instinct•algorithm
TOPIC CLOSED
instinct•algorithm
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler nope. 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.
((Continued from Bats, & Rats, & Blind Cave Salamanders))
A day and a half. That's about how long Charles had been in those tunnels. He had come out somewhere in the mountains and was heading traveling outwards, away from all tunnel-and-mountain-related parts of the island.
He had gotten out of the cave around noon, but it was night now, the sun he worked so hard to find had fallen beneath the horizon, the stars and moon taking it's place. His flashlight was off, it had been dimmed from nearly a day and and a half of constant use, so he left it off when the sun set.... Though, he was having trouble navigating the mountainside in the dark.
Charles sat down on a rock that seemed like a decent stand in for chair, or at least the best nearby.
The announcement came back to his mind. He had been thinking of it since he heard it down there in those tunnels. Nineteen people were dead, that was almost a death an hour. That rate likely increased today, and tomorrow it would again... that rate would only slow when there were too few people to keep up that death rate, and wouldn't stop until only one person was left... unless something happened to stop it... something....
A day and a half. That's about how long Charles had been in those tunnels. He had come out somewhere in the mountains and was heading traveling outwards, away from all tunnel-and-mountain-related parts of the island.
He had gotten out of the cave around noon, but it was night now, the sun he worked so hard to find had fallen beneath the horizon, the stars and moon taking it's place. His flashlight was off, it had been dimmed from nearly a day and and a half of constant use, so he left it off when the sun set.... Though, he was having trouble navigating the mountainside in the dark.
Charles sat down on a rock that seemed like a decent stand in for chair, or at least the best nearby.
The announcement came back to his mind. He had been thinking of it since he heard it down there in those tunnels. Nineteen people were dead, that was almost a death an hour. That rate likely increased today, and tomorrow it would again... that rate would only slow when there were too few people to keep up that death rate, and wouldn't stop until only one person was left... unless something happened to stop it... something....
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xylophonefairy†
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:55 am
((Maddy Stone continued from Take, Eat))
She was a bit cleaner after crossing a river and attempting to clean her clothes in it. The downshot was that she had spent the better part of day two sopping wet and freezing cold as a result, despite the summer relative warmth. About this time, the announcements had come over on the tannoy, and she winced at each one, most of whom she knew. They were all people, individuals, but now they had something in common, namely being dead.
Having finally dried off, and taken the most uncomfortable nap of her life near some trees, she had slept off most of the afternoon, and decided on a whim that it was better to walk at night. She had good eyesight, perhaps that would be useful to her at some point.
For a long time the mountain had loomed ahead of her, and she had known for most of this time that she was going to climb it. It wasn't a huge mountain, but she figured that many of her less phyically able classmates would balk at the sight of it, and hopefully the psychopaths would be down there trying to catch them. Trekking up a path that had apparently been built by the previous inhabitants of the island (either that or an extremely enterprising classmate), Maddy held her rosary in her hands, twisting it between her fingers, muttering prayers as she walked. She hadn't prayed so much in years. But her words were constantly directed towards God. Please, give me strength. Give me the strength to resist hurting anyone, give me the strength to keep going.
Though she had no idea how he could save her now. The only way to win was to kill everyone else, which she couldn't do. But if she lay down and did nothing and surrendered, where did that leave her?
Stumbling on a loose stone, she fell forwards, cutting her palms on the gravel. Scrabbling round she worked her way into a seated position and inspected the damage. Not too bad, a superficial graze, just enough to sting for the next hour without any further complications, she hoped. Standing up, she kept walking, looking for somewhere more sheltered that she could clean the wounds. Rounding a corner, she spotted Charles sitting on a rock, though the darkness meant she didn't know who it was until she was pretty close. Recognising him, she sat down on the ground beside him with a faintly amused irritable air.
"Don't," she said, before he could say anything. Maddy fully expected a Charles Richard Dawson anti-religion rant, and right now, she wasn't really in the mood to defend her God (though naturally, she would). Unzipping her duffel bag, she rooted around for the first aid kit and a bottle of water and started washing the wound. "He has a plan." She realised with sudden pressing urgency that at least one of them would be dead in the next few days, and she bent her head to disguise the sick feeling this brought on in her, her dark hair falling across her face.
She was a bit cleaner after crossing a river and attempting to clean her clothes in it. The downshot was that she had spent the better part of day two sopping wet and freezing cold as a result, despite the summer relative warmth. About this time, the announcements had come over on the tannoy, and she winced at each one, most of whom she knew. They were all people, individuals, but now they had something in common, namely being dead.
Having finally dried off, and taken the most uncomfortable nap of her life near some trees, she had slept off most of the afternoon, and decided on a whim that it was better to walk at night. She had good eyesight, perhaps that would be useful to her at some point.
For a long time the mountain had loomed ahead of her, and she had known for most of this time that she was going to climb it. It wasn't a huge mountain, but she figured that many of her less phyically able classmates would balk at the sight of it, and hopefully the psychopaths would be down there trying to catch them. Trekking up a path that had apparently been built by the previous inhabitants of the island (either that or an extremely enterprising classmate), Maddy held her rosary in her hands, twisting it between her fingers, muttering prayers as she walked. She hadn't prayed so much in years. But her words were constantly directed towards God. Please, give me strength. Give me the strength to resist hurting anyone, give me the strength to keep going.
Though she had no idea how he could save her now. The only way to win was to kill everyone else, which she couldn't do. But if she lay down and did nothing and surrendered, where did that leave her?
Stumbling on a loose stone, she fell forwards, cutting her palms on the gravel. Scrabbling round she worked her way into a seated position and inspected the damage. Not too bad, a superficial graze, just enough to sting for the next hour without any further complications, she hoped. Standing up, she kept walking, looking for somewhere more sheltered that she could clean the wounds. Rounding a corner, she spotted Charles sitting on a rock, though the darkness meant she didn't know who it was until she was pretty close. Recognising him, she sat down on the ground beside him with a faintly amused irritable air.
"Don't," she said, before he could say anything. Maddy fully expected a Charles Richard Dawson anti-religion rant, and right now, she wasn't really in the mood to defend her God (though naturally, she would). Unzipping her duffel bag, she rooted around for the first aid kit and a bottle of water and started washing the wound. "He has a plan." She realised with sudden pressing urgency that at least one of them would be dead in the next few days, and she bent her head to disguise the sick feeling this brought on in her, her dark hair falling across her face.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler xylophonefairy. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
((Clio Gabriella fine appearance in Act 4 continues now in Act 5...))
She wasn't one to judge them, but the game was changing, like an embryo under a microscope that knew it was being watched. The classmates she once knew and feared were nothing like their old selves, but she wasn't sure that was what she was worried about, or if it was what made her decision so easy. Her former decision, that was. It wasn't long until she had to make up her mind for real, only one more sleep. Maybe she would dream about them again, or maybe it would turn out that the whole thing wasn't real, she'd stopped killing for nothing. She'd been sinking instead of moving forward. But the sinking feeling was turning into something else. Regret? Shame? Daytime had been wasted by her trying to figure that out.
But it wasn't time for that. Sleep was a definite priority.
Behind one of the many trees that littered the landscape, a camera would have recorded Clio Gabriella, who would be the islands top killer at that point in time, losing only to a psycho lesbian ice skater and tying with many others. This girl certainly looked the part. Her hair was a mess, unlike the calm graceful persona it usually represented, all nice and...nice like. Her purple streaks had collided with her black, to create a splodgy ink look on the front of her head. Her skirt was torn after she took a tumble to avoid a group of people who looked armed, scratching the inside of her thigh in the process. It wasn't bad, not extremely painful, but it was something to get concerned over. And her stomach was a different story altogether. Not turbulancing itself like she expect, but...it was something else, having to merely exist on bread and water was something that she knew was going to do hazardous work on her body if she had to live on them for a long time, but she so missed being able to come home and have something free to drink from the fridge.
While she stepped through a particularly wet patch of grass, the dew collecting there for the night, she smiled, her cheeks still wet from the strenuous amount of time she spent crying throughout the day. Not from sadness, god knows she had experienced enough of that to fill several lifetimes, but of shock. Who knew that one little incident could be so traumatising enough to respark the whole bucket of emotions that was Clio?...So she smiled. It wouldn't be long until she'd be able to walk through her door, silently, and actually get a bottle of orange soda, kept on the second shelf just for her after keeping her grades up.
It...wasn't something she was even sure would actually happen again, to be perfectly honest with herself. She knew that the fact she was armed, dangerous, and had a taboo to her name was indicative factors that she still had a fighting chance, but...it was the incident with Teo that really counter-sparked this. She was armed, no doubt, but that could easily be taken away (and it wasn't that hard really, seeing as it had happened almost 5 times already); she was dangerous, granted, and that could just as easily be taken away like her gun; the taboo on her name...it wasn't so much a mark of fear as a target on her back. Supposing someone wanted to off players, she would probably be an easy target to a group of people, rather than having people run away from her.
All this was distracting her from her real mission. Find some shelter, and sleep.
Taking out her flashlight from her bag, the cool metalic feel embracing her palm, she started to look around the mountain; there had to be a cave around here, or somewhere she could hide, just for the night.
The incline started to even out, become less treacherous; it became a bit easier to see now. The light reached out its claws to the darkness, and...in the brief distance, there lay a body before him. Unlike most of the other bodies she'd come across, this one seemed to be alive. She didn't recognise him from a distance, like so many of her classmates, but she wasn't about to take any chances.
Non-dominant hand in her bag, wrapped carefully around her Walther, she spoke into the night before her.
"Hello?" Clio asked raspily, her voice still crackily and uneven from her encounters and current condition.
She didn't know what she was in for at this time of night.
She wasn't one to judge them, but the game was changing, like an embryo under a microscope that knew it was being watched. The classmates she once knew and feared were nothing like their old selves, but she wasn't sure that was what she was worried about, or if it was what made her decision so easy. Her former decision, that was. It wasn't long until she had to make up her mind for real, only one more sleep. Maybe she would dream about them again, or maybe it would turn out that the whole thing wasn't real, she'd stopped killing for nothing. She'd been sinking instead of moving forward. But the sinking feeling was turning into something else. Regret? Shame? Daytime had been wasted by her trying to figure that out.
But it wasn't time for that. Sleep was a definite priority.
Behind one of the many trees that littered the landscape, a camera would have recorded Clio Gabriella, who would be the islands top killer at that point in time, losing only to a psycho lesbian ice skater and tying with many others. This girl certainly looked the part. Her hair was a mess, unlike the calm graceful persona it usually represented, all nice and...nice like. Her purple streaks had collided with her black, to create a splodgy ink look on the front of her head. Her skirt was torn after she took a tumble to avoid a group of people who looked armed, scratching the inside of her thigh in the process. It wasn't bad, not extremely painful, but it was something to get concerned over. And her stomach was a different story altogether. Not turbulancing itself like she expect, but...it was something else, having to merely exist on bread and water was something that she knew was going to do hazardous work on her body if she had to live on them for a long time, but she so missed being able to come home and have something free to drink from the fridge.
While she stepped through a particularly wet patch of grass, the dew collecting there for the night, she smiled, her cheeks still wet from the strenuous amount of time she spent crying throughout the day. Not from sadness, god knows she had experienced enough of that to fill several lifetimes, but of shock. Who knew that one little incident could be so traumatising enough to respark the whole bucket of emotions that was Clio?...So she smiled. It wouldn't be long until she'd be able to walk through her door, silently, and actually get a bottle of orange soda, kept on the second shelf just for her after keeping her grades up.
It...wasn't something she was even sure would actually happen again, to be perfectly honest with herself. She knew that the fact she was armed, dangerous, and had a taboo to her name was indicative factors that she still had a fighting chance, but...it was the incident with Teo that really counter-sparked this. She was armed, no doubt, but that could easily be taken away (and it wasn't that hard really, seeing as it had happened almost 5 times already); she was dangerous, granted, and that could just as easily be taken away like her gun; the taboo on her name...it wasn't so much a mark of fear as a target on her back. Supposing someone wanted to off players, she would probably be an easy target to a group of people, rather than having people run away from her.
All this was distracting her from her real mission. Find some shelter, and sleep.
Taking out her flashlight from her bag, the cool metalic feel embracing her palm, she started to look around the mountain; there had to be a cave around here, or somewhere she could hide, just for the night.
The incline started to even out, become less treacherous; it became a bit easier to see now. The light reached out its claws to the darkness, and...in the brief distance, there lay a body before him. Unlike most of the other bodies she'd come across, this one seemed to be alive. She didn't recognise him from a distance, like so many of her classmates, but she wasn't about to take any chances.
Non-dominant hand in her bag, wrapped carefully around her Walther, she spoke into the night before her.
"Hello?" Clio asked raspily, her voice still crackily and uneven from her encounters and current condition.
She didn't know what she was in for at this time of night.
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Hallucinojelly†
- Posts: 133
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:17 am
((Hilary Strand continued from Rest and Relaxation))
----
Over the speakers: slow, deliberate clapping.
----
That sound.
That voice.
Those names.
Ever since she heard them, they'd stuck to her; their hooks attaching themselves to the surface of her brain. At first she hadn't believed it - any of it. She was a simple girl who knew nothing of the world and all it's atrocities, only things that mattered to her. Her diet, her school work, her friends, her family. Brock, her everything. SOTF? It could've meant anything to Hilary, anything at all, and she still wouldn't have heard of it. Every year the threat of it loomed over America's schools, and every year there were talks and assemblies warning the children of the dangers these terrorist might one day bring. It didn't matter. To them, the whole thing seemed impossible. Who on earth would take Bayview? Who could actually kidnap an entire year of students without anybody noticing? No-one.
That's why she hadn't believed it when she woke up in that kitchen. That's why she questioned the device around her neck. That's why she didn't trust Harold, or Will.
That's why it hurt so much when she finally opened her eyes.
----
She couldn't sleep. A full day before she had spent in stasis, alone on the tiled floor; her body still ached. For Hilary, Day One was yesterday, the day she first heard the speakers screech into life. Every bone she had wanted to move, to walk, to run, anywhere, but she knew better now. She'd seen what happened to people in the night, and it made her numb. So many bodies she'd seen, on her way here - so much proof. Her mind was telling her not to get sucked in - "It's all a lie! They're tricking you again!" - but then she touched their skin and felt the stillness of their blood. The others here, her classmates, had changed. Some were frozen, some were fire, but all of them had grown ugly in the light of the game, and their twisted faces frightened her.
Again, she asked herself, why she was here. Why was she the one to get dumped onto this island? Why was she the one who had to sleep in the dirt and the shadows in case someone attacked her? There was no-one else she could pose these questions to; no-one would give her the answers she wanted. They'd sooner slit her throat than tell her everything was going to be alright, and so she decided to spend the hours hiding out in bushes, watching for any signs of life nearby. There was no way she'd let someone catch her now, she'd run forever if it meant she didn't die. And whenever she found herself with a second or two of safe, blissful time, her thoughts would turn to those who she had yet to find.
But now was not that time. The seconds she had saved up by lying behind a fallen tree were suddenly snatched away by the emergence of a figure in the distance. Their shape was distinctly male, but their features were hidden by the illumination of the night upon their silhouette. She knelt down behind her "wall", watching on as he looked up at the stars. He too, was drawn to the mystical - the lights that seemed so heavenly and yet she knew would burn if touched. Did that make him a star? This lonesome boy who she knew nothing of losing himself in the ocean above. A gentle - and cold - wind pushed her hand back down behind the tree. There would be no contact here, no emotional greeting. Stars were only felt by the canvas of space, not by someone so... mortal.
Then a light; it burst forth from the path below like a star itself, rising up until it collided with her own.
Omar.
It had a name, after all.
----
Over the speakers: slow, deliberate clapping.
----
That sound.
That voice.
Those names.
Ever since she heard them, they'd stuck to her; their hooks attaching themselves to the surface of her brain. At first she hadn't believed it - any of it. She was a simple girl who knew nothing of the world and all it's atrocities, only things that mattered to her. Her diet, her school work, her friends, her family. Brock, her everything. SOTF? It could've meant anything to Hilary, anything at all, and she still wouldn't have heard of it. Every year the threat of it loomed over America's schools, and every year there were talks and assemblies warning the children of the dangers these terrorist might one day bring. It didn't matter. To them, the whole thing seemed impossible. Who on earth would take Bayview? Who could actually kidnap an entire year of students without anybody noticing? No-one.
That's why she hadn't believed it when she woke up in that kitchen. That's why she questioned the device around her neck. That's why she didn't trust Harold, or Will.
That's why it hurt so much when she finally opened her eyes.
----
She couldn't sleep. A full day before she had spent in stasis, alone on the tiled floor; her body still ached. For Hilary, Day One was yesterday, the day she first heard the speakers screech into life. Every bone she had wanted to move, to walk, to run, anywhere, but she knew better now. She'd seen what happened to people in the night, and it made her numb. So many bodies she'd seen, on her way here - so much proof. Her mind was telling her not to get sucked in - "It's all a lie! They're tricking you again!" - but then she touched their skin and felt the stillness of their blood. The others here, her classmates, had changed. Some were frozen, some were fire, but all of them had grown ugly in the light of the game, and their twisted faces frightened her.
Again, she asked herself, why she was here. Why was she the one to get dumped onto this island? Why was she the one who had to sleep in the dirt and the shadows in case someone attacked her? There was no-one else she could pose these questions to; no-one would give her the answers she wanted. They'd sooner slit her throat than tell her everything was going to be alright, and so she decided to spend the hours hiding out in bushes, watching for any signs of life nearby. There was no way she'd let someone catch her now, she'd run forever if it meant she didn't die. And whenever she found herself with a second or two of safe, blissful time, her thoughts would turn to those who she had yet to find.
But now was not that time. The seconds she had saved up by lying behind a fallen tree were suddenly snatched away by the emergence of a figure in the distance. Their shape was distinctly male, but their features were hidden by the illumination of the night upon their silhouette. She knelt down behind her "wall", watching on as he looked up at the stars. He too, was drawn to the mystical - the lights that seemed so heavenly and yet she knew would burn if touched. Did that make him a star? This lonesome boy who she knew nothing of losing himself in the ocean above. A gentle - and cold - wind pushed her hand back down behind the tree. There would be no contact here, no emotional greeting. Stars were only felt by the canvas of space, not by someone so... mortal.
Then a light; it burst forth from the path below like a star itself, rising up until it collided with her own.
Omar.
It had a name, after all.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hallucinojelly. 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.
As Charles started to close his eyes in an attempt to focus his thoughts, a familiar voice broke his concentration. It was Maddy Stone.
"He has a plan."
Charles stared at her in disbelief, not at her words, although he didn't really believe those either, but at her sudden appearance. He had been almost certain he wouldn't live to see anyone he really considered a friend, or that they wouldn't live to see him, but sitting there right in front of him was Maddy Stone.
"...Maddy," Charles whispered. "Maddy!" He repeated excitedly, swooping in to hug her. "I- I thought I'd never see you again."
Breaking his embrace, Charles stood up and took several steps back. "Don't worry about our normal discussions, right now... Right now we have far more immediate concerns than the existence or non-existence of the divine anyway, besides..." Charles sighed before continuing, "Besides, we've both conceded that the only way to get true proof of the afterlife would be to go there and... Well, we'll likely find out for ourselves sooner than we thought, so discussing it is waste of time that's better spent elsewhere."
"He has a plan."
Charles stared at her in disbelief, not at her words, although he didn't really believe those either, but at her sudden appearance. He had been almost certain he wouldn't live to see anyone he really considered a friend, or that they wouldn't live to see him, but sitting there right in front of him was Maddy Stone.
"...Maddy," Charles whispered. "Maddy!" He repeated excitedly, swooping in to hug her. "I- I thought I'd never see you again."
Breaking his embrace, Charles stood up and took several steps back. "Don't worry about our normal discussions, right now... Right now we have far more immediate concerns than the existence or non-existence of the divine anyway, besides..." Charles sighed before continuing, "Besides, we've both conceded that the only way to get true proof of the afterlife would be to go there and... Well, we'll likely find out for ourselves sooner than we thought, so discussing it is waste of time that's better spent elsewhere."
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ET.Requiem†
- Posts: 73
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 4:14 am
((Kevin Harding continued from One of Three))
It had been a long, horrific day for Kevin. Running away from a lit stick of dynamite, watching somebody get beaten to death from a distance, and just an hour ago, getting held up by Vera, who he had tried to steal a gun from. He was slowly but surely making his way down to the loser pile. If he didn't shape up, it wouldn't be long before he got his sorry ass killed.
"Plan. I need to have a plan." He stumbled onto the side of the mountain and laid there, with his clothes dripping with sweat and his face smeared with mud and dust. It was probably time to set up a camp and just rest. He had been running around for so long, with so little in the way of nourishment or hydration. Taking his backpack off, he pulled out a bottle of water and greedily gulped its contents down, only stopping when half of it was drained and his thirst was abated.
God, this was a mess. Just one giant fucking mess. It was obvious that he couldn't get through this game without killing anybody. It was just plain impossible. He had heard about the previous games of SotF, and the body count that their winners racked up. Sooner or later, he'd have to end somebody's life, whether it was to protect himself or loot the body.
He looked wearily up at the night sky. Was this it? The death of his body, or the death of his humanity. Those were the choices presented to him. It really was impossible to come out of this a real winner. He would lose much more than he would gain either way.
The third option... escape. What a joke. With these collars around their necks and the terrorists watching their every move, trying to get off this island alive was impossible. Removing this metal deathtrap was equally had, seeing as how they had 3 games to perfect these devices.
Yes, running away from it all was an absolutely hopeless prospect. With that in mind, he had to choose his path. Kill, or be killed. There was no guarantee that he would survive even if he tried his hardest to win, but it would give him a slim chance. Giving up was certain death here.
"I'm...." What will it be? "I don't want to die."
Kevin made his choice. He would start killing. He was just too scared of the alternative to do otherwise.
"Sorry, mom. Sorry, dad. I'm sorry that I gave in so easily." Just this once, he let himself cry. It was probably the last time he would ever get a chance to do so.
It had been a long, horrific day for Kevin. Running away from a lit stick of dynamite, watching somebody get beaten to death from a distance, and just an hour ago, getting held up by Vera, who he had tried to steal a gun from. He was slowly but surely making his way down to the loser pile. If he didn't shape up, it wouldn't be long before he got his sorry ass killed.
"Plan. I need to have a plan." He stumbled onto the side of the mountain and laid there, with his clothes dripping with sweat and his face smeared with mud and dust. It was probably time to set up a camp and just rest. He had been running around for so long, with so little in the way of nourishment or hydration. Taking his backpack off, he pulled out a bottle of water and greedily gulped its contents down, only stopping when half of it was drained and his thirst was abated.
God, this was a mess. Just one giant fucking mess. It was obvious that he couldn't get through this game without killing anybody. It was just plain impossible. He had heard about the previous games of SotF, and the body count that their winners racked up. Sooner or later, he'd have to end somebody's life, whether it was to protect himself or loot the body.
He looked wearily up at the night sky. Was this it? The death of his body, or the death of his humanity. Those were the choices presented to him. It really was impossible to come out of this a real winner. He would lose much more than he would gain either way.
The third option... escape. What a joke. With these collars around their necks and the terrorists watching their every move, trying to get off this island alive was impossible. Removing this metal deathtrap was equally had, seeing as how they had 3 games to perfect these devices.
Yes, running away from it all was an absolutely hopeless prospect. With that in mind, he had to choose his path. Kill, or be killed. There was no guarantee that he would survive even if he tried his hardest to win, but it would give him a slim chance. Giving up was certain death here.
"I'm...." What will it be? "I don't want to die."
Kevin made his choice. He would start killing. He was just too scared of the alternative to do otherwise.
"Sorry, mom. Sorry, dad. I'm sorry that I gave in so easily." Just this once, he let himself cry. It was probably the last time he would ever get a chance to do so.
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(Mirabelle Nesa continued from Take, Eat)
Her fight with Garret had taken longer than she had anticipated, and by the time she'd gone after Machete she had not been able to find her. The same strange, terrible happiness which had taken hold of her during her fight with Garret refused to release her, and without flinching she'd continued on, wading through whatever she needed to wade to. She was not even suffering, in the proper sense of the word; a fierce ecstasy kept her aloft, kept her moving.
She heard the names named. Heard that her schoolmates had died. And yet she could still keep moving. She wondered at that.
Day wore into night, Belle rested when she needed to, ate when she was hungry, and continued to move. At a certain point, having not seen Maddy in some time, Belle assumed the other girl had gone her own way. Mentally, Belle wished her well; for now, Belle had other concerns. With so little artifical light, the stars and moon provided terrific illumination; ahead of her she saw a boy stumbling up his own way. Not wanting to scare him, Belle began to move in a different direction, but then the boy sank onto the ground and Belle had a much harder time ignoring him.
She didn't hesitate; she moved closer. One of the football players, she thought; K-something. She wasn't sure what to say. Why had he collapsed? Was he hurt?
"Are you alright?" she asked, keeping her voice low.
Her fight with Garret had taken longer than she had anticipated, and by the time she'd gone after Machete she had not been able to find her. The same strange, terrible happiness which had taken hold of her during her fight with Garret refused to release her, and without flinching she'd continued on, wading through whatever she needed to wade to. She was not even suffering, in the proper sense of the word; a fierce ecstasy kept her aloft, kept her moving.
She heard the names named. Heard that her schoolmates had died. And yet she could still keep moving. She wondered at that.
Day wore into night, Belle rested when she needed to, ate when she was hungry, and continued to move. At a certain point, having not seen Maddy in some time, Belle assumed the other girl had gone her own way. Mentally, Belle wished her well; for now, Belle had other concerns. With so little artifical light, the stars and moon provided terrific illumination; ahead of her she saw a boy stumbling up his own way. Not wanting to scare him, Belle began to move in a different direction, but then the boy sank onto the ground and Belle had a much harder time ignoring him.
She didn't hesitate; she moved closer. One of the football players, she thought; K-something. She wasn't sure what to say. Why had he collapsed? Was he hurt?
"Are you alright?" she asked, keeping her voice low.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
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xylophonefairy†
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:55 am
So relieved to see someone she knew, someone who cared about her enough to be glad to see her, that when Charles wrapped his arms around her she found tears beginning to form in her eyes. It was broken too quickly and hastily she wiped the back of her hand underneath her eyes and resumed looking at the floor. He talked about the afterlife, that there was no doubt they would both being seeing far sooner than either of them had intended to. And it scared her. Whatever Heaven might be, whatever He might have planned for her there, it would be without her family; for a while at least. There was so much she still had to do on this planet, places she never went, people she never met. A husband she would never have and children she would never raise.
"Yeah.." she said quietly, not really wanting to think about it aand agreeing that it was pointless. For the first time their usual arguments had been rendered pointless, what did it matter if you were going to find out soon anyways? "I wish it didn't have to be this way," she lowered her voice automatically, lest someone, a camera her main focus, should hear them. "Surely there is some way we can..." Maddy trailed off, looking irritably at the sky, managing to pull her eyes from the ground.
"Oh I don't know," she shrugged, outwardly her expression neutral (though her slightly red eyes gave her away as being far from neutral). Inwardly she was praying like she'd never prayed before: praying for a reason, praying to save her own skin. "This is all so unreal, why can't the Government, or someone, why can't they find us?" she demanded suddenly, not being able to figure out how an island of this size hadn't been found.
"Yeah.." she said quietly, not really wanting to think about it aand agreeing that it was pointless. For the first time their usual arguments had been rendered pointless, what did it matter if you were going to find out soon anyways? "I wish it didn't have to be this way," she lowered her voice automatically, lest someone, a camera her main focus, should hear them. "Surely there is some way we can..." Maddy trailed off, looking irritably at the sky, managing to pull her eyes from the ground.
"Oh I don't know," she shrugged, outwardly her expression neutral (though her slightly red eyes gave her away as being far from neutral). Inwardly she was praying like she'd never prayed before: praying for a reason, praying to save her own skin. "This is all so unreal, why can't the Government, or someone, why can't they find us?" she demanded suddenly, not being able to figure out how an island of this size hadn't been found.
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Charles sat back down on his rock, and lowered his gaze toward the ground. He listened closely to Maddy's words, thinking.... He had been thinking about it during most of his trek through those tunnels, but could they...? He let out a deep sigh.
"Maddy..." He began, "I - I've been thinking." He paused a moment, before continuing, "About that, I mean, the lack of rescue."
"Survival of the Fittest has long been something I've had a problem with, for obvious reasons, and it always bothered me that the islands were so hard to find even though there should have been enough information from the camera feeds to narrow the search considerably, and with the number of nations that would be willing to search... They should have been able to mount a rescue..."
He looked up and turned his head to look at Maddy, "But then I realized - Man, it was so obvious why didn't I see it sooner? - I realized that, you know... Everyone thinks SotF broadcasts live, but what if it doesn't? If it's on a delay they could take all the countermeasures they needed to slow the information leak... even a few hours can make a few methods of search more inaccurate."
Sighing, he continued, the timbre of dismay in his voice growing more clear. "Unfortunately, if I'm right about that, then we can't count on rescue, and that means escape would be even more difficult than we thought."
His eyes then seemed to light up, a definite change in his demeanor from before, "BUT! Even if we can't escape it doesn't mean we're powerless! I have an idea!"
Charles stood up to stretch his legs, "If we get as many of the remaining students to join up and stop killing each other... That rule where if there isn't a death for a whole day they'll blow all the collars. Danya spent a lot of money on this, if we sit around being boring he won't make enough to recoup his losses. If we can make the organization fall even one game before it would naturally, we'll have saved hundreds of lives!"
He sat back down and shook his head, "Sorry, that was all... disorganized. I had a lot in my mind I needed to get out. In case you didn't catch what I said; I think getting Danya to blow everyone's collars would lose him money and viewers, and maybe inspire the next class to try the same, eventually SotF will wither and die, potentially saving hundreds or thousands of people... So Maddy! How about it? Up for becoming a martyr?"
"Maddy..." He began, "I - I've been thinking." He paused a moment, before continuing, "About that, I mean, the lack of rescue."
"Survival of the Fittest has long been something I've had a problem with, for obvious reasons, and it always bothered me that the islands were so hard to find even though there should have been enough information from the camera feeds to narrow the search considerably, and with the number of nations that would be willing to search... They should have been able to mount a rescue..."
He looked up and turned his head to look at Maddy, "But then I realized - Man, it was so obvious why didn't I see it sooner? - I realized that, you know... Everyone thinks SotF broadcasts live, but what if it doesn't? If it's on a delay they could take all the countermeasures they needed to slow the information leak... even a few hours can make a few methods of search more inaccurate."
Sighing, he continued, the timbre of dismay in his voice growing more clear. "Unfortunately, if I'm right about that, then we can't count on rescue, and that means escape would be even more difficult than we thought."
His eyes then seemed to light up, a definite change in his demeanor from before, "BUT! Even if we can't escape it doesn't mean we're powerless! I have an idea!"
Charles stood up to stretch his legs, "If we get as many of the remaining students to join up and stop killing each other... That rule where if there isn't a death for a whole day they'll blow all the collars. Danya spent a lot of money on this, if we sit around being boring he won't make enough to recoup his losses. If we can make the organization fall even one game before it would naturally, we'll have saved hundreds of lives!"
He sat back down and shook his head, "Sorry, that was all... disorganized. I had a lot in my mind I needed to get out. In case you didn't catch what I said; I think getting Danya to blow everyone's collars would lose him money and viewers, and maybe inspire the next class to try the same, eventually SotF will wither and die, potentially saving hundreds or thousands of people... So Maddy! How about it? Up for becoming a martyr?"
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KingKamor†
- Posts: 212
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 5:43 am
(Jacqueline "Jackie" Maxwell, continued from Take, Eat)
The night had been particularly hard on Jackie, what with the constant threat of death that surrounded her. The fact that Belle, someone whom she recalled to be usually calm and collected on campus, started a fight did not exactly help her confidence, either. If even someone like that was able to simply fly off the handle like that just because of some stupid grudge, then Jackie was in deeper trouble than she had ever anticipated. Then again, she should have guessed that that would be the case with the whole "only one student survives" mantra that Danya kept barking about.
After her terrible night's sleep and some more wading through the swamp with Maddy and Belle, the PA system came on with a crackle of static. "Speak of the devil," Jackie said with poison filling her voice.
At some point, a girl named Rose was called. Rose? Wasn't the first girl I saw on the island named Rose? A wave of cold pierced through her chest. "N-no way. Aren't there tons of girls named Rose at school? Yeah! There's no way that it's the same one. Yeah..."
Shaking that out of her thoughts, she continued to follow Maddy, wherever she was going. After running into someone new (several someones, actually) Jackie was surprised that the other girl simply walked up to someone and sat down next to him. "I guess... he's okay...?" Once they began to speak with each other with such familiarity, she let out a sigh. "Good. I'll let you guys talk."
She walked off to give them their space, making sure to stay within earshot at all times in case something happened. After weaving through the trees for a minute or two, none other than Belle stood before her. The martial artist looked surprisingly unharmed from the fight, the muddy swamp water notwithstanding. A little scared of what might happen if she didn't say anything, she spoke first. "So... You and Garrett really had it out for each other. Do you mind if I ask why?" It was a terrible topic to bring up, but other than that, Jackie had nothing else at that moment. She did her best not to make eye contact, and instead elected to simply look away as she spoke with Belle.
The night had been particularly hard on Jackie, what with the constant threat of death that surrounded her. The fact that Belle, someone whom she recalled to be usually calm and collected on campus, started a fight did not exactly help her confidence, either. If even someone like that was able to simply fly off the handle like that just because of some stupid grudge, then Jackie was in deeper trouble than she had ever anticipated. Then again, she should have guessed that that would be the case with the whole "only one student survives" mantra that Danya kept barking about.
After her terrible night's sleep and some more wading through the swamp with Maddy and Belle, the PA system came on with a crackle of static. "Speak of the devil," Jackie said with poison filling her voice.
At some point, a girl named Rose was called. Rose? Wasn't the first girl I saw on the island named Rose? A wave of cold pierced through her chest. "N-no way. Aren't there tons of girls named Rose at school? Yeah! There's no way that it's the same one. Yeah..."
Shaking that out of her thoughts, she continued to follow Maddy, wherever she was going. After running into someone new (several someones, actually) Jackie was surprised that the other girl simply walked up to someone and sat down next to him. "I guess... he's okay...?" Once they began to speak with each other with such familiarity, she let out a sigh. "Good. I'll let you guys talk."
She walked off to give them their space, making sure to stay within earshot at all times in case something happened. After weaving through the trees for a minute or two, none other than Belle stood before her. The martial artist looked surprisingly unharmed from the fight, the muddy swamp water notwithstanding. A little scared of what might happen if she didn't say anything, she spoke first. "So... You and Garrett really had it out for each other. Do you mind if I ask why?" It was a terrible topic to bring up, but other than that, Jackie had nothing else at that moment. She did her best not to make eye contact, and instead elected to simply look away as she spoke with Belle.
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Before she could get a word in to whoever was laying on that hill, she heard someone. It wasn't too far away, really, it even seemed to be on the same slope. So instead of continuing in her attempt at contact with the mysterious laying figure, she put her hand over her flashlight, and followed the voices.
And then, as she lay in the darkness like a cat in the night, she heard it all.
The two fellow students talking about the game.
The plan.
The attempt at "saving hundreds of lives".
...no. No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no NO! If...If he does that he's going to...going to...KILL US. NO. YOU CAN'T. I'M...I'M STILL WAITING! IF....
Clio's hand clenched tight, so very very tight on the torch. It was feeling so...
This wasn't being a killer anymore. This wasn't playing her selfish little game. This was just for her survival now. If this kid even attempted it, it was an attempt against her life, her wellbeing, her slim attempt at trying to get off this island alive. If he wanted to end it all, just so...just so they could think towards the future and...no...no...NO.
Clio's usual anxious smile had vanished completely. Instead, it was replaced with a wide eyed show of terror. This wasn't supposed to happen.
And that was the first sign of what she knew, from years of therapy, was known as a relapse.
Soon, the flashlight was absent of the hand covering the globe, the gun was taken out of the bag, and, lodged in her left hand opposite her torch, she was suddenly a violently shaking, crying apparition who appeared out of nowhere.
"Wha-what are you...y-you want us to die here? You-you'd rather everyone we-we know to die? Ho-How can you say that?! How-how-HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU SAY THAT?! Y-Y-Y-NO!...You're not going to do it are you, really? You're just joking, right? R-Right? I...you..."
Clio finished her stammering to notice the other person on the scene. Turning her gun, she started to blurt out towards them.
"You-you're not going to do this, are you? Tell me, are you?...ARE YOU?"
And then, as she lay in the darkness like a cat in the night, she heard it all.
The two fellow students talking about the game.
The plan.
The attempt at "saving hundreds of lives".
...no. No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no NO! If...If he does that he's going to...going to...KILL US. NO. YOU CAN'T. I'M...I'M STILL WAITING! IF....
Clio's hand clenched tight, so very very tight on the torch. It was feeling so...
This wasn't being a killer anymore. This wasn't playing her selfish little game. This was just for her survival now. If this kid even attempted it, it was an attempt against her life, her wellbeing, her slim attempt at trying to get off this island alive. If he wanted to end it all, just so...just so they could think towards the future and...no...no...NO.
Clio's usual anxious smile had vanished completely. Instead, it was replaced with a wide eyed show of terror. This wasn't supposed to happen.
And that was the first sign of what she knew, from years of therapy, was known as a relapse.
Soon, the flashlight was absent of the hand covering the globe, the gun was taken out of the bag, and, lodged in her left hand opposite her torch, she was suddenly a violently shaking, crying apparition who appeared out of nowhere.
"Wha-what are you...y-you want us to die here? You-you'd rather everyone we-we know to die? Ho-How can you say that?! How-how-HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU SAY THAT?! Y-Y-Y-NO!...You're not going to do it are you, really? You're just joking, right? R-Right? I...you..."
Clio finished her stammering to notice the other person on the scene. Turning her gun, she started to blurt out towards them.
"You-you're not going to do this, are you? Tell me, are you?...ARE YOU?"
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storyspoiler†
- Posts: 152
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:16 am
(Mizore Soryu continued from Darkness Within)
Her hours had gotten off. Meditating, staying up with Raidon, sleeping late had taken their toll. It was dim light, but she had heard the announcement.
Rounding us off for the day, Scott McGregor, showing yet AGAIN why you don't make any sudden movements around somebody with a gun, was shot and killed by Naoko Raidon.
She didn't feel any anger. He had said he would. She knew he would. Maybe he had really been startled, even. But it was cold now, even with the jacket around her. And she felt weary.
And there were people nearby.
She recognized one of them. Mirabelle Nesa. She did Karate at the dojo with some Life On Enceladus members. The other two, the boy and the girl, she knew nothing about. The boy didn't look in good condition, though. Big guy, kind of spaced-out look, face that had taken a beating. The girl seemed fragile, with red streaks in her hair.
None of them looked like they would immediately kill her. So she stepped on a twig and emerged from the tree cover, palms up.
"Mizore Soryu here. Not trying to kill you. Just want to get some rest." She put down her bag. "Weapons are in that bag. Caltrops and food. Nothing on me. Can search me if you want." Was every introduction she made to people from now on going to sound like a police procedural? How disconcerting. "I'm on my way to the groundskeeper's hut to get some paint. Anyone know where I can find paint around here?"
Her hours had gotten off. Meditating, staying up with Raidon, sleeping late had taken their toll. It was dim light, but she had heard the announcement.
Rounding us off for the day, Scott McGregor, showing yet AGAIN why you don't make any sudden movements around somebody with a gun, was shot and killed by Naoko Raidon.
She didn't feel any anger. He had said he would. She knew he would. Maybe he had really been startled, even. But it was cold now, even with the jacket around her. And she felt weary.
And there were people nearby.
She recognized one of them. Mirabelle Nesa. She did Karate at the dojo with some Life On Enceladus members. The other two, the boy and the girl, she knew nothing about. The boy didn't look in good condition, though. Big guy, kind of spaced-out look, face that had taken a beating. The girl seemed fragile, with red streaks in her hair.
None of them looked like they would immediately kill her. So she stepped on a twig and emerged from the tree cover, palms up.
"Mizore Soryu here. Not trying to kill you. Just want to get some rest." She put down her bag. "Weapons are in that bag. Caltrops and food. Nothing on me. Can search me if you want." Was every introduction she made to people from now on going to sound like a police procedural? How disconcerting. "I'm on my way to the groundskeeper's hut to get some paint. Anyone know where I can find paint around here?"
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xylophonefairy†
- Posts: 182
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:55 am
As Charles talked about the time lag, Maddy checked her watch. She was tempted to say the time to the camera, one of which she could see, pointing directly at them. But a quick touch of her fingertips to the collar at her neck put that idea out of her head. Was telling the time a collar blowing offence? Her watch was still aligned to CDT, which would actually possibly be useful to someone watching them. But she couldn't bring herself to do it; not in such a calculated way, anyhow. She needed someone to ask her the time, or to ask someone else what the time was. She needed to lose her watch. Meanwhile, Charles was telling her his plan.
And she sat, open mouthed.
Was it a good plan? She didn't know. It was an idea, for sure, and she could see how he'd arrived at that conclusion. But then he wanted to know if she was willing to be a martyr. Would that make her a saint one day? Maddy allowed herself half a second of iagining this, before realising that there would be over two hundred saints in the same category as herself. Even as she thought this, Clio Gabriella appeared out of nowhere, apparently having overheard them. First the gun was pointed at Charles, but then it swung around until, for the second time in the last three days, Maddy Stone found herself starting down the barrel of a gun.
She wondered where Belle and Jackie, whom she had been sort of travelling with, had gotten to.
Maybe it was the fact that she'd escaped her first one unscathed that Maddy found herself feeling much less afraid this time around. Whatever it was, she was strangely calm, and removed from the proceedings. So when asked if she was going to go with Charles' plan, she shrugged mildly and pointed at the cross hanging around her neck.
"If I kill anyone I'm going to hell," she said simply. "And I get the feeling that, however we go about it, I'm going to find out what's on the other side soon anyway..."
And she sat, open mouthed.
Was it a good plan? She didn't know. It was an idea, for sure, and she could see how he'd arrived at that conclusion. But then he wanted to know if she was willing to be a martyr. Would that make her a saint one day? Maddy allowed herself half a second of iagining this, before realising that there would be over two hundred saints in the same category as herself. Even as she thought this, Clio Gabriella appeared out of nowhere, apparently having overheard them. First the gun was pointed at Charles, but then it swung around until, for the second time in the last three days, Maddy Stone found herself starting down the barrel of a gun.
She wondered where Belle and Jackie, whom she had been sort of travelling with, had gotten to.
Maybe it was the fact that she'd escaped her first one unscathed that Maddy found herself feeling much less afraid this time around. Whatever it was, she was strangely calm, and removed from the proceedings. So when asked if she was going to go with Charles' plan, she shrugged mildly and pointed at the cross hanging around her neck.
"If I kill anyone I'm going to hell," she said simply. "And I get the feeling that, however we go about it, I'm going to find out what's on the other side soon anyway..."
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Charles had been aware that not everyone would be fond of his plan, that was part of the reason why he had waited until he met someone he knew before saying it, but having someone like that overhear him telling someone else about it for the first time was so... inconvenient.
"Listen, we can talk about this," He said calmly, "we aren't forcing anybody into it. We'll ask people if they want to join and if they don't...." It didn't look like she was liking this, he'd have to find a way to get him and Maddy out of there.
"Okay, calm down. Do you want some water? You should drink some water, here." Charles kneeled down slowly to open his pack taking out a bottle of water and rolled it towards Clio.
He leaned over to Maddy and whispered, "We need to get out of here. We run on the count of three, alright? One... Two... THREE!" Grabbing only his SotF-assigned bag, he ran.
((Charles Richard Dawson continued in Fight or Flight))
"Listen, we can talk about this," He said calmly, "we aren't forcing anybody into it. We'll ask people if they want to join and if they don't...." It didn't look like she was liking this, he'd have to find a way to get him and Maddy out of there.
"Okay, calm down. Do you want some water? You should drink some water, here." Charles kneeled down slowly to open his pack taking out a bottle of water and rolled it towards Clio.
He leaned over to Maddy and whispered, "We need to get out of here. We run on the count of three, alright? One... Two... THREE!" Grabbing only his SotF-assigned bag, he ran.
((Charles Richard Dawson continued in Fight or Flight))