"What about the school trip?" Percival Fletcher glanced at his son from across the table.
"What about it?" Simon was re-reading Thud for about the third time. The book's pages were kept fairly clean, but they had gotten yellowed by the oil that coated his fingers
"We were wondering if you wanted to go." Caroline was looking over the newspaper. "Your girlfriend is going on it, you know?"
"I don't have a girlfriend." Simon's protest lacked energy. His mother always said that about every girl he was friends with, and it really did get old.
"Well, I know the Duncan boy is on it. I heard from his mothers yesterday." Simon's father took a sip from his drink.
Simon wondered how many times his father even talked to Trevor. "Yeah, I guess it could be fun." He sometimes wondered if he was doing the right thing with his life. Simon never seemed to go to parties or hang on Fridays like the others students. It wasn't like he had a problem with the way he was living; it was just that maybe it would be good to get out and socialize some more.
Besides, what did he have to lose?
"It's your decision, Simon." His mother was saying now. "We just want you to be happy. Besides, you deserve a little time for yourself before you go off to college."
"No, I want to go." And he really did too. It would be interesting, at least. "Here's the form." Simon pulled a white paper out of a folder in his messenger bag. Caroline signed it, even though her hand writing was borderline illegible.
"Thanks, mom." Simon nodded to his mother and opened his book again. The school trip was still a long way off, and he would worry about packing latter.
Simon Fletcher heard the girl place an arrow on her bow.
With his eyes closed, He couldn't see the shapes of Eve and Eva. However, their voices had found a way into Simon's head.
Why did you let Sarah go?
Why did you help Kris?
Why did you let R.J. take your gun?
Why did you tell this girl to kill you?
Why?
He wanted to argue, to say that he really was trying to do the right thing. Simon had been trying to do the right thing since he got into this island. He wanted to avoid killing people, to find a group, to stick together. And look where that had gotten him, really. Two lives on his hands, his friends dying before he met up with them.
It was amazing that he couldn't work up the nerve to kill himself.
Simon Fletcher heard the bowstring pull back.
This kind of thing wasn't supposed to happen, not to anyone. Simon had never exactly wanted a whole lot out of life. He was going to go to a fairly large college and come home to Minnesota with a diploma in hand. He'd find a decent paying job where he could use language skills, and maybe take that trip to China that he had always wanted to. He would write to Zhang laoshi, and tell him how much he had helped Simon's life.
And, somewhere along the way, Simon might meet a plain, book loving girl who went to history museums on the weekends. They could live out their ordinary lives together, in a medium sized house in the suburbs. Simon could grow old by the fireplace, remembering the days when he had been innocent. He'd die, of course, after had had truly finished his life.
A boring, normal, fucking existence. Was that really too much to ask?
Simon Fletcher heard the soft twing of a arrow leaving the bow.
For a girl who had never killed before, Samantha Ridley was a fairly good shot.
B104 – Simon Fletcher – DECEASED
Measure Once, Cut Twice
Day 3; Nighttime
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Tagabasa. 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.
After the arrow pierced his neck Simon's body went limp collapsed onto the ground. Sam closed her eyes and stood silent for a moment, not sure what to do, or say, or even think. Her eyes watered on the verge of tears, but none fell.
. . . . . . . .
Opening her eyes, she tried to speak, but it came out only as a whisper. A whisper so soft that even she couldn't hear it. Wiping her eyes and clearing her throat, she turned away from Simon's body and tried to speak up again, "Danya... I believe you heard what me and Simon were talking about before right?" her words were cold and distant, but still pained, as if she was trying to forget about what had only just occurred but couldn't.
"Make sure..." She paused and took a breath, she wasn't delivering this impromptu speech with the level of passion it needed, but she hoped the point would get through, "Make sure Ishida knows I'm out for revenge against her. I want that fucking bitch to know that I'm coming. I want her to realize that just because she's a big bad killer doesn't mean she scares me. I will make sure she doesn't leave this island, even if it's the last thing I do."
She turned back to glance at Simon's corpse, "...and don't worry, I'll make sure my revenge is entertaining enough to repay you for delivering the message."
. . . . . . . .
Opening her eyes, she tried to speak, but it came out only as a whisper. A whisper so soft that even she couldn't hear it. Wiping her eyes and clearing her throat, she turned away from Simon's body and tried to speak up again, "Danya... I believe you heard what me and Simon were talking about before right?" her words were cold and distant, but still pained, as if she was trying to forget about what had only just occurred but couldn't.
"Make sure..." She paused and took a breath, she wasn't delivering this impromptu speech with the level of passion it needed, but she hoped the point would get through, "Make sure Ishida knows I'm out for revenge against her. I want that fucking bitch to know that I'm coming. I want her to realize that just because she's a big bad killer doesn't mean she scares me. I will make sure she doesn't leave this island, even if it's the last thing I do."
She turned back to glance at Simon's corpse, "...and don't worry, I'll make sure my revenge is entertaining enough to repay you for delivering the message."
((Peter McCue continued from Some Fantastic.))
Fortunately for Peter, the last thing on his mind by now was the incident between himself and Max. He had literally no idea what he had done wrong; although for the longest time he was paranoid that he had been. The conversation that spiked with Katlin about the incident DEFINITELY a fun one.
---
"Peter? What happened back there? Between you and Max I mean."
"Huh?" His mind was most definitely not on the 'path' in front of him, if you could call it that. Normally, his orienteering skills would have come in handy, but the pair had no real destination in mind. There was no point in deciding where to go beyond avoiding danger zones; there was no safe place anywhere. They could be shot and killed wherever they went. And thankfully, just from memory of a glance at the map, The Key, Infirmary, and Mansion were absolutely nowhere near where they just fled from. So they had just been walking along the clearest cut path they could find. And honestly, that gave Peter time to think. He thought about a lot of things while he was wandering, from how he might possibly have a chance of escape, to his family, to his scout troop and his friends. Were Ridley and Luke still alive even? It had been three days by now, and he doubted that either of them had any wilderness skills.
"Oh. That..." His voice instantly sank upon realizing what he had been asked.
Before he could begin his small diatribe, she spoke again. "I just want to know what happened, what went on between the two of you. I mean, all I heard was the gunshot and then some shouting, I wasn't there for the entire thing. I'm glad I caught up to you two but..."
"It's okay. Honestly it was a massive misunderstanding." He sighed softly, thinking back to that morning. "He accidentally fired a shot. I'd been yelling at him all the night before to put the thing away, stop flashing it around like some movie cop; you heard me back in the tunnels. That gunshot ruined our chances of gaining more allies." He paused for a second. "Oh, yeah... There were a couple of people who were down in the logs, we were going to try and communicate with them, and see if we couldn't find more people like us. Either way... I told him to give me the gun. He flipped out, and started screaming something like "That was your plan all along, huh?" and looking around. I have no idea what happened, I honestly think he couldn't take the stress of what was going on. Not that I can blame him though, to be honest."
His voice was kind of weak thinking about the effect this... travesty was having on the people he saw every single day for the past four years. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
"I just don't know what to think about all of this and everyone here. I want to hope that everyone is like you, that no one wants to play this game, that everyone just wants to go home like us. But after that stuff this morning, after listening to that man..."
He couldn't say anything back to that. This was really fucked up. He wanted to believe that too, that everyone was just doing what they thought best to get home. Or they had just been unable to take the stress; like Max. But... Who knew? Some of his classmates really could have been just waiting for the opportunity to do something like this. A killer in disguise.
"Just don't think about that... He's probably trying to scare us. He wants to watch us all die..." He shook his head.
"I'm just... I'm just scared, Peter. I don't want to be here..."
"Trust me, I don't think any of us want to be here Katlin... And to be honest, I'm scared too."
---
That night the pair had stopped to rest. Peter finally took this as a ripe opportunity to consolidate all his shit into one bag, and stop lugging around 65 pounds. As much as he was used to hiking with overweight bags (being small DID have it's major disadvantages), this was just plain ridiculous. However the next morning the pair had began to walk again; this time Peter's inventory much smaller, at max what could fit in the day pack. He kept his binoculars and his flint and steel, as well as a few smaller items and some changes of clothes. The first aid kits were combined, and while the day pack was bulky, it was still significantly more manageable than the full hiking bag. "One last comfortable night, huh?" He had offered Katlin his sleeping bag and sleeping pad that night, as he knew they needed to both be well rested and he was significantly more used to sleeping on the ground than she was.
The walk had been surprisingly quiet, and to keep himself occupied, Peter had spent the time identifying the local flora and fauna to himself. A few he had never seen before, but odds were they were nowhere near the United States. Probably off the coast of Australia, Argentina, or Chile actually. Japan had way too high of a set of relations with the US for this to happen anywhere near them, and they most definitely weren't near the US... Plus, Japan had tons of ships near their waters. Wait. It was still warm, and it was summer back in Minnesota... They had to be in some remote island in the Northern Pacific. There were just plain too many trade routes between Europe and the US to chance sticking them there.
"Hey, Peter? Did I ever tell you that I took Tae Kwon Do since I was young?"
That had come out of the blue. Again, his instant response was a quick "Hm?" as he was (welcomely for that matter) knocked out of his train of thought. "Oh, no you actually didn't. That's awesome!" His lips curled into a smile as he turned to look at her, looking her over quickly. Now that she mentioned it, she did seem to have the figure of a martial artist. Lithe, powerful, yet hiding it's true potential.
"Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that if something happened, I could defend myself, y'know? But I don't know if you could..."
He chuckled softly to himself. "I'd like to think I could."
"I mean, that's not to say you're not strong and that's not to say you couldn't protect me, it's just that I don't know if you have any advantages over these other people who have already killed. I mean, I don't even know if you have a weapon and yet everyone else..."
"No no, it's okay. I know exactly what you meant. I'd like to think my biggest advantage is my knowledge of the land." He forced a warm smile, trying not only to convince her that his survival skills would help, but honestly, he was trying to convince himself. Okay, sure. When they were hiding like caged rats, he could help her live off the land. But what the hell was he going to do with a gun point to his head; or worse, hers? He was by no stretch the best talker of his class, and he had no means of defending her.
However, her next action caught him more off guard than he had been this entire three days.
"Um... I want you to have this."
His head cocked to the side momentarily as he watched her rifle through her bag. When she extracted the sword from the depths of her belongings however and handed it to him, he was stunned.
So stunned that he had no idea how to react.
"I... Re-really? It's your weapon though. I don't want to..."
She cut him off.
"I trust you with it. I don't want it and... and I know you'll only do good with it. So, I want you to have it."
"T-Thanks." His cheeks flushed red as he gingerly took the sword, and carefully and methodically slid it through one of his belt loops. Thankfully only the tip was sharp, so he could safely hold the weapon in such a fashion. He had never wielded one before, but from watching fencing matches, it couldn't be that hard... could it?
---
There was a small building off in the distance. They had indeed glanced at the map during their last stop and determined heading to the sawmill was probably the best course of action. Heck, they might have even been able to make it by dusk! However seeing the small, dank building looming down in the valley that stood before them, his hopes were significantly lower than they had been when that decision had been made. Nothing about the building felt welcoming.
"Peter? Where are we now?"
"I think that's the Sawmill." Hope was more the word, but the illusion of certainty was a good thing.
The pair pressed on, for some reason Peter's heart sank harder the closer they got.
And what he saw when they entered the building was beyond sheer terror.
The pair in the building didn't seem to have noticed them yet. "Peter..." Watching the girl knock her bow, directing it's wrath towards the boy that seemed so resolved to his fate, Peter quickly brought his hand to shield Katlin's eyes. He managed to just in time.
His jaw dropped as he watched another life pass. Just like that, in front of his eyes. The boy, one of his classmates now lay dead with an arrow in his neck. Katlin didn't need to see something so gruesome.
And now the girl was talking. Saying something that he couldn't hear. She looked so cold, so unmoved by the powerful action she had just made. Peter was terrified. Not for himself, but for Katlin. He placed his hand on hers, relishing the warmth that her touch brought as the one small spot of light in such a pained darkness. "C'mon... Why don't we just get out of here?" His eyes couldn't turn away from the scene. It was like a train wreck had just taken place right in front of him. He couldn't make himself move or look away. His chest felt heavy and silent tears began to fall; mourning the boy where Samantha had not.
Fortunately for Peter, the last thing on his mind by now was the incident between himself and Max. He had literally no idea what he had done wrong; although for the longest time he was paranoid that he had been. The conversation that spiked with Katlin about the incident DEFINITELY a fun one.
---
"Peter? What happened back there? Between you and Max I mean."
"Huh?" His mind was most definitely not on the 'path' in front of him, if you could call it that. Normally, his orienteering skills would have come in handy, but the pair had no real destination in mind. There was no point in deciding where to go beyond avoiding danger zones; there was no safe place anywhere. They could be shot and killed wherever they went. And thankfully, just from memory of a glance at the map, The Key, Infirmary, and Mansion were absolutely nowhere near where they just fled from. So they had just been walking along the clearest cut path they could find. And honestly, that gave Peter time to think. He thought about a lot of things while he was wandering, from how he might possibly have a chance of escape, to his family, to his scout troop and his friends. Were Ridley and Luke still alive even? It had been three days by now, and he doubted that either of them had any wilderness skills.
"Oh. That..." His voice instantly sank upon realizing what he had been asked.
Before he could begin his small diatribe, she spoke again. "I just want to know what happened, what went on between the two of you. I mean, all I heard was the gunshot and then some shouting, I wasn't there for the entire thing. I'm glad I caught up to you two but..."
"It's okay. Honestly it was a massive misunderstanding." He sighed softly, thinking back to that morning. "He accidentally fired a shot. I'd been yelling at him all the night before to put the thing away, stop flashing it around like some movie cop; you heard me back in the tunnels. That gunshot ruined our chances of gaining more allies." He paused for a second. "Oh, yeah... There were a couple of people who were down in the logs, we were going to try and communicate with them, and see if we couldn't find more people like us. Either way... I told him to give me the gun. He flipped out, and started screaming something like "That was your plan all along, huh?" and looking around. I have no idea what happened, I honestly think he couldn't take the stress of what was going on. Not that I can blame him though, to be honest."
His voice was kind of weak thinking about the effect this... travesty was having on the people he saw every single day for the past four years. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
"I just don't know what to think about all of this and everyone here. I want to hope that everyone is like you, that no one wants to play this game, that everyone just wants to go home like us. But after that stuff this morning, after listening to that man..."
He couldn't say anything back to that. This was really fucked up. He wanted to believe that too, that everyone was just doing what they thought best to get home. Or they had just been unable to take the stress; like Max. But... Who knew? Some of his classmates really could have been just waiting for the opportunity to do something like this. A killer in disguise.
"Just don't think about that... He's probably trying to scare us. He wants to watch us all die..." He shook his head.
"I'm just... I'm just scared, Peter. I don't want to be here..."
"Trust me, I don't think any of us want to be here Katlin... And to be honest, I'm scared too."
---
That night the pair had stopped to rest. Peter finally took this as a ripe opportunity to consolidate all his shit into one bag, and stop lugging around 65 pounds. As much as he was used to hiking with overweight bags (being small DID have it's major disadvantages), this was just plain ridiculous. However the next morning the pair had began to walk again; this time Peter's inventory much smaller, at max what could fit in the day pack. He kept his binoculars and his flint and steel, as well as a few smaller items and some changes of clothes. The first aid kits were combined, and while the day pack was bulky, it was still significantly more manageable than the full hiking bag. "One last comfortable night, huh?" He had offered Katlin his sleeping bag and sleeping pad that night, as he knew they needed to both be well rested and he was significantly more used to sleeping on the ground than she was.
The walk had been surprisingly quiet, and to keep himself occupied, Peter had spent the time identifying the local flora and fauna to himself. A few he had never seen before, but odds were they were nowhere near the United States. Probably off the coast of Australia, Argentina, or Chile actually. Japan had way too high of a set of relations with the US for this to happen anywhere near them, and they most definitely weren't near the US... Plus, Japan had tons of ships near their waters. Wait. It was still warm, and it was summer back in Minnesota... They had to be in some remote island in the Northern Pacific. There were just plain too many trade routes between Europe and the US to chance sticking them there.
"Hey, Peter? Did I ever tell you that I took Tae Kwon Do since I was young?"
That had come out of the blue. Again, his instant response was a quick "Hm?" as he was (welcomely for that matter) knocked out of his train of thought. "Oh, no you actually didn't. That's awesome!" His lips curled into a smile as he turned to look at her, looking her over quickly. Now that she mentioned it, she did seem to have the figure of a martial artist. Lithe, powerful, yet hiding it's true potential.
"Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that if something happened, I could defend myself, y'know? But I don't know if you could..."
He chuckled softly to himself. "I'd like to think I could."
"I mean, that's not to say you're not strong and that's not to say you couldn't protect me, it's just that I don't know if you have any advantages over these other people who have already killed. I mean, I don't even know if you have a weapon and yet everyone else..."
"No no, it's okay. I know exactly what you meant. I'd like to think my biggest advantage is my knowledge of the land." He forced a warm smile, trying not only to convince her that his survival skills would help, but honestly, he was trying to convince himself. Okay, sure. When they were hiding like caged rats, he could help her live off the land. But what the hell was he going to do with a gun point to his head; or worse, hers? He was by no stretch the best talker of his class, and he had no means of defending her.
However, her next action caught him more off guard than he had been this entire three days.
"Um... I want you to have this."
His head cocked to the side momentarily as he watched her rifle through her bag. When she extracted the sword from the depths of her belongings however and handed it to him, he was stunned.
So stunned that he had no idea how to react.
"I... Re-really? It's your weapon though. I don't want to..."
She cut him off.
"I trust you with it. I don't want it and... and I know you'll only do good with it. So, I want you to have it."
"T-Thanks." His cheeks flushed red as he gingerly took the sword, and carefully and methodically slid it through one of his belt loops. Thankfully only the tip was sharp, so he could safely hold the weapon in such a fashion. He had never wielded one before, but from watching fencing matches, it couldn't be that hard... could it?
---
There was a small building off in the distance. They had indeed glanced at the map during their last stop and determined heading to the sawmill was probably the best course of action. Heck, they might have even been able to make it by dusk! However seeing the small, dank building looming down in the valley that stood before them, his hopes were significantly lower than they had been when that decision had been made. Nothing about the building felt welcoming.
"Peter? Where are we now?"
"I think that's the Sawmill." Hope was more the word, but the illusion of certainty was a good thing.
The pair pressed on, for some reason Peter's heart sank harder the closer they got.
And what he saw when they entered the building was beyond sheer terror.
The pair in the building didn't seem to have noticed them yet. "Peter..." Watching the girl knock her bow, directing it's wrath towards the boy that seemed so resolved to his fate, Peter quickly brought his hand to shield Katlin's eyes. He managed to just in time.
His jaw dropped as he watched another life pass. Just like that, in front of his eyes. The boy, one of his classmates now lay dead with an arrow in his neck. Katlin didn't need to see something so gruesome.
And now the girl was talking. Saying something that he couldn't hear. She looked so cold, so unmoved by the powerful action she had just made. Peter was terrified. Not for himself, but for Katlin. He placed his hand on hers, relishing the warmth that her touch brought as the one small spot of light in such a pained darkness. "C'mon... Why don't we just get out of here?" His eyes couldn't turn away from the scene. It was like a train wreck had just taken place right in front of him. He couldn't make himself move or look away. His chest felt heavy and silent tears began to fall; mourning the boy where Samantha had not.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler T-Fox. 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.
"Fine, stay quiet," Belle mumbled. "Didn't mean to offend you." She wasn't even sure why she was travelling with Jackie at this point; it had simply seemed like a good idea, and anyways she didn't want to judge a girl simply for choosing to be friends with Garrett (else she'd have to judge herself harshly). "Not like I-"
She broke off.
It was hard to say what she'd just heard, but there was a whiff of danger to it. A soft force, a purr more vibration than sound, that gently caressed her eardrums. The low release of a taut string. Like a bow, she might have said, judging solely on movies she'd seen.
She and Jackie had been making their way towards the voices they'd heard. And now there was the twang of a bow.
The body was slumped in front of Samantha Ridley, an arrow protruding from the neck.
She had encountered Samantha Ridley before; she was highly competitive and athletic, and in the course of things they had crossed paths once or twice. And now, from all appearances, she had seen fit to betray a friend with a swift arrow to a neck.
The indifference that had been riding her dissipated at once. "You bitch!" she howled, sprinting down the hill as her anger returned, obliterating her tiredness.
Here was evil for her to fight, her was someone cold and heartless, here was a proprietor of violence and she, Mirabelle Nesa, was not going to let such people continue. The island might be filled with such imitation Garretts, and what had she spent all her time learning how to fight for if she was now going to let such people go unpunished?
She broke off.
It was hard to say what she'd just heard, but there was a whiff of danger to it. A soft force, a purr more vibration than sound, that gently caressed her eardrums. The low release of a taut string. Like a bow, she might have said, judging solely on movies she'd seen.
She and Jackie had been making their way towards the voices they'd heard. And now there was the twang of a bow.
The body was slumped in front of Samantha Ridley, an arrow protruding from the neck.
She had encountered Samantha Ridley before; she was highly competitive and athletic, and in the course of things they had crossed paths once or twice. And now, from all appearances, she had seen fit to betray a friend with a swift arrow to a neck.
The indifference that had been riding her dissipated at once. "You bitch!" she howled, sprinting down the hill as her anger returned, obliterating her tiredness.
Here was evil for her to fight, her was someone cold and heartless, here was a proprietor of violence and she, Mirabelle Nesa, was not going to let such people continue. The island might be filled with such imitation Garretts, and what had she spent all her time learning how to fight for if she was now going to let such people go unpunished?
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.”
Why?
Why was this happening?
Why was everyone willing to participate in such a horrible game? Why were they willing to kill each other so suddenly and brutally? Why was everyone suddenly leaving behind everything they once held dear and reveling in the wanton death and destruction that was all around them? Why did she just have to witness someone killing a classmate, someone she had gone to school with, right in front of her? She didn't want to be here in this place with these people she barely knew, the ones she was always told not to trust, always made to fear. Now it all seemed to be coming true, every unreasonable little fear she'd tried to shrug off before was coming true right here and now, every worst case scenario from her mother's mind bleeding into reality.
Despite Peter's well meaning efforts, she'd already seen far, far too much.
She'd seen the girl lining up her shot and the boy just standing there. From behind the shield of Peter's hand she'd seen the body drop to the fall suddenly, heard the dull thud as everything went limp and every last bit of life left in the boy was torn away suddenly. It was all too much for Kaitlin to handle, all of this death and all of the killing, all of the violence and horrible things that were going on in this place. Everyone had gone insane, everyone was killing one another for no reason and she didn't stand a chance and she would end up alone or dead or worse or...
The cuddly little stuffed animal, once held so tightly in Kaitlin's arms, hit the ground.
When Peter grabbed Kaitlin's hand, she threw herself into his chest and tried to block out everything around her with a muffled scream and the sudden sobbing. She just wanted to escape, to block out that image of the dead boy and the girl who'd just killed him in so coldly, so calmly. She didn't want to hear the words she was speaking or even Peter's suggestion that they leave. She just wanted to escape everything and hide from everyone, just wanted that comforting and safe embrace to be around her at all times to protect her. It seemed so silly now, how she'd worried about him being able to protect himself before, so sure she could do the same for herself with all her practice and study.
But she was still just a scared young girl. Alone and afraid, she turned toward the only safe haven she had.
Slowly but surely, the moment slipped by.
"Why?"
Her voice was small and weak after the sobbing and the scream. Hesitantly, she pulled away from Peter with tears still clouding her vision, still running down her cheeks. Behind all that fear and uncertainty, behind all those tears and that sorrow, there were the smallest hints of anger. But no matter how small, it was still there behind everything, hiding there within Kaitlin's mind as she stared at the murderer in front of her. That's what she was, after all. A murderer. Plain and simple.
"Why did you do it?"
She wanted an answer. Demanded an answer. She wanted to know why this was all happening, why this girl had just killed someone. If nothing else came out of this, she would at least get that answer.
"Tell me!"
Why was this happening?
Why was everyone willing to participate in such a horrible game? Why were they willing to kill each other so suddenly and brutally? Why was everyone suddenly leaving behind everything they once held dear and reveling in the wanton death and destruction that was all around them? Why did she just have to witness someone killing a classmate, someone she had gone to school with, right in front of her? She didn't want to be here in this place with these people she barely knew, the ones she was always told not to trust, always made to fear. Now it all seemed to be coming true, every unreasonable little fear she'd tried to shrug off before was coming true right here and now, every worst case scenario from her mother's mind bleeding into reality.
Despite Peter's well meaning efforts, she'd already seen far, far too much.
She'd seen the girl lining up her shot and the boy just standing there. From behind the shield of Peter's hand she'd seen the body drop to the fall suddenly, heard the dull thud as everything went limp and every last bit of life left in the boy was torn away suddenly. It was all too much for Kaitlin to handle, all of this death and all of the killing, all of the violence and horrible things that were going on in this place. Everyone had gone insane, everyone was killing one another for no reason and she didn't stand a chance and she would end up alone or dead or worse or...
The cuddly little stuffed animal, once held so tightly in Kaitlin's arms, hit the ground.
When Peter grabbed Kaitlin's hand, she threw herself into his chest and tried to block out everything around her with a muffled scream and the sudden sobbing. She just wanted to escape, to block out that image of the dead boy and the girl who'd just killed him in so coldly, so calmly. She didn't want to hear the words she was speaking or even Peter's suggestion that they leave. She just wanted to escape everything and hide from everyone, just wanted that comforting and safe embrace to be around her at all times to protect her. It seemed so silly now, how she'd worried about him being able to protect himself before, so sure she could do the same for herself with all her practice and study.
But she was still just a scared young girl. Alone and afraid, she turned toward the only safe haven she had.
Slowly but surely, the moment slipped by.
"Why?"
Her voice was small and weak after the sobbing and the scream. Hesitantly, she pulled away from Peter with tears still clouding her vision, still running down her cheeks. Behind all that fear and uncertainty, behind all those tears and that sorrow, there were the smallest hints of anger. But no matter how small, it was still there behind everything, hiding there within Kaitlin's mind as she stared at the murderer in front of her. That's what she was, after all. A murderer. Plain and simple.
"Why did you do it?"
She wanted an answer. Demanded an answer. She wanted to know why this was all happening, why this girl had just killed someone. If nothing else came out of this, she would at least get that answer.
"Tell me!"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Dr. Nic. 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.
Where were all these people coming from? And at the same time, too. Sam could've sworn she and Simon were alone. Were there ninja classes at Bayview or something? Sam considered scooping up all her things and leaving without dignifying their intrusion with a response, but that would be rude... besides her stuff was near a tree several feet away from her, towards the newcomers, so going for it without defusing the situation would just be stupid.
"HOLD IT! Calm the fuck down! I can explain, okay!? Or do you want to risk do something you'll regret?" The comments were mainly directed to the one who called her a bitch, but the others could benefit from listening as well.
"Him and me got to talking about how things have been going. I think 'poorly' sums up the answer anyone here would give, but things were extra bad for Simon." she sighed, "He blamed himself for some of the deaths and wanted to die, but he couldn't bring himself to do it himself, so he asked me."
She glanced at the others, "Look, if you don't believe me we can wait a few hours for the announcement to come on. I doubt I can trust Danya to tell the truth, but I'm guessing I don't have any other options."
Sam tossed her bow onto the ground, hoping that disarming willingly would ease the nerves of the others. After that she sat down against the wall.
"Deal?"
"HOLD IT! Calm the fuck down! I can explain, okay!? Or do you want to risk do something you'll regret?" The comments were mainly directed to the one who called her a bitch, but the others could benefit from listening as well.
"Him and me got to talking about how things have been going. I think 'poorly' sums up the answer anyone here would give, but things were extra bad for Simon." she sighed, "He blamed himself for some of the deaths and wanted to die, but he couldn't bring himself to do it himself, so he asked me."
She glanced at the others, "Look, if you don't believe me we can wait a few hours for the announcement to come on. I doubt I can trust Danya to tell the truth, but I'm guessing I don't have any other options."
Sam tossed her bow onto the ground, hoping that disarming willingly would ease the nerves of the others. After that she sat down against the wall.
"Deal?"
Why? Why did you do it? Tell me!
He had never seen Katlin this angry, and granted he hadn't seen her much or spoken to her much in school, she still had always seemed like a beacon of purity just from the way she carried herself. And this was just... Compared to how she was in the tunnel, and how she was just a few hours before, this was a stark contrast. His hand unconsciously ran over the epee that she had given to him in the best of faith. Not in fear or in retaliation, but in sentimentality.
His thought process was broken though as Katlin's demands were met; Samantha tried to explain herself. That... She did it because he asked her to?
"...What?" The word was barely a whisper, yet it felt as if it surmised his entire existence at that very moment.
Peter could definitely understand people committing suicide on the island. Not that he thought it was the right way to go about things; especially for the simple fact that he had every single intention of getting out of here alive with as many people as he could.
But... How could she do something like that? Something so cold, so painful? How could she not feel a fucking thing?
No more words would come to his mouth out of the sheer shock of witnessing what he just had, and this girl's excuse for an excuse.
And then, she threw her bow to the ground.
He wanted to trust his classmates; his peers to do the right thing. The announcements had been confirming his fears that so many were becoming corrupted. But... This was just...
A tear welled up in his eye. How... How could she? Did she even realize she had done something wrong? She was responsible for the death of a person who just couldn't take the pain. It was atrocious. And the part that bothered Peter the most was the fact that she literally didn't seem to care at all.
He shook his head, shuffling backwards and urging Katlin to do the same with an outstretched palm.
"T-There's no way I'm going to... to just sit here and wait for an announcement... with someone like you." He was shaking in a mix between fear and mirth. "You... You don't even care. Even if you are telling the truth... D-Didn't killing him at the very least..." He had no idea how to go on. His eyes passed down to the body of Simon, lying there, almost as if asleep; other than the obvious. He looked so at peace. Something that he somehow sincerely doubted that Samantha would ever find now. "What is wrong with you?" There was disgust beginning to creep into his tone. He had no idea what to think, what to do, what to say. He wanted to save everyone and bring them back. But what about the people who killed? What about the people who went insane? A soft sigh escaped his lips as he shuffled back another step.
And honestly, he just wished he had gotten here sooner; and saved a life rather than watched one be taken.
He had never seen Katlin this angry, and granted he hadn't seen her much or spoken to her much in school, she still had always seemed like a beacon of purity just from the way she carried herself. And this was just... Compared to how she was in the tunnel, and how she was just a few hours before, this was a stark contrast. His hand unconsciously ran over the epee that she had given to him in the best of faith. Not in fear or in retaliation, but in sentimentality.
His thought process was broken though as Katlin's demands were met; Samantha tried to explain herself. That... She did it because he asked her to?
"...What?" The word was barely a whisper, yet it felt as if it surmised his entire existence at that very moment.
Peter could definitely understand people committing suicide on the island. Not that he thought it was the right way to go about things; especially for the simple fact that he had every single intention of getting out of here alive with as many people as he could.
But... How could she do something like that? Something so cold, so painful? How could she not feel a fucking thing?
No more words would come to his mouth out of the sheer shock of witnessing what he just had, and this girl's excuse for an excuse.
And then, she threw her bow to the ground.
He wanted to trust his classmates; his peers to do the right thing. The announcements had been confirming his fears that so many were becoming corrupted. But... This was just...
A tear welled up in his eye. How... How could she? Did she even realize she had done something wrong? She was responsible for the death of a person who just couldn't take the pain. It was atrocious. And the part that bothered Peter the most was the fact that she literally didn't seem to care at all.
He shook his head, shuffling backwards and urging Katlin to do the same with an outstretched palm.
"T-There's no way I'm going to... to just sit here and wait for an announcement... with someone like you." He was shaking in a mix between fear and mirth. "You... You don't even care. Even if you are telling the truth... D-Didn't killing him at the very least..." He had no idea how to go on. His eyes passed down to the body of Simon, lying there, almost as if asleep; other than the obvious. He looked so at peace. Something that he somehow sincerely doubted that Samantha would ever find now. "What is wrong with you?" There was disgust beginning to creep into his tone. He had no idea what to think, what to do, what to say. He wanted to save everyone and bring them back. But what about the people who killed? What about the people who went insane? A soft sigh escaped his lips as he shuffled back another step.
And honestly, he just wished he had gotten here sooner; and saved a life rather than watched one be taken.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler T-Fox. 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.
-
KingKamor†
- Posts: 212
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 5:43 am
(Jacqueline "Jackie" Maxwell, continued from instinct algorithm)
(OOC: For the sake of time, can we say that it is morning on Day 4 as of this post?)
The time spent with Belle had not been very long, but Jackie had begun to grow a little attached to the other girl in much the same way she herself grew attached to Garrett. I'm starting to wonder if I just have bad taste in comrades? she thought to herself. Once they pair had gotten to a place filled with sawdust and machinery and randomly placed buildings, a cold sweat had developed on the back of Jackie's neck.
"I'm sorry I don't talk much," Belle said, apropos of nothing. "Just..." she broke off. "I really don't know what to say."
Jackie didn't know what to say, either. A lifetime of acting, and she could never ad-lib her lines when the need arose. Perhaps she needed a script to living life, as well? Though their current situation was hardly "living life."
"Fine, stay quiet," Belle mumbled. "Didn't mean to offend you. Not like I-"
There were voices; normal-sounding ones, at that. Jackie didn't have to tell Belle that they needed to find out where the dialogue was coming from; the girl had already began to pursue the noise.
And then the shouting began.
Belle took off, shouting profanity, while Jackie stared wide-eyed at the display before them. Someone was dead. Someone else stood above them with what she guessed was the weapon that did the deed. Belle was going off the handle again. People were going to get hurt or killed again.
Fuck... fuckfuckfuckfuck!! Jackie dug through her bag for the revolver, finally ripping it out from among a little piece of paper and her rations and her map. It took several seconds for her frightened shaking fingers to clasp over the handle of the gun properly before she looked back up at the people before her as if expecting someone to drop dead instantly.
"HOLD IT! Calm the fuck down! I can explain, okay!?" The murder girl shouted.
"How can you explain something like this...?" Jackie whispered to herself, keeping the gun trained on Samantha.
(OOC: For the sake of time, can we say that it is morning on Day 4 as of this post?)
The time spent with Belle had not been very long, but Jackie had begun to grow a little attached to the other girl in much the same way she herself grew attached to Garrett. I'm starting to wonder if I just have bad taste in comrades? she thought to herself. Once they pair had gotten to a place filled with sawdust and machinery and randomly placed buildings, a cold sweat had developed on the back of Jackie's neck.
"I'm sorry I don't talk much," Belle said, apropos of nothing. "Just..." she broke off. "I really don't know what to say."
Jackie didn't know what to say, either. A lifetime of acting, and she could never ad-lib her lines when the need arose. Perhaps she needed a script to living life, as well? Though their current situation was hardly "living life."
"Fine, stay quiet," Belle mumbled. "Didn't mean to offend you. Not like I-"
There were voices; normal-sounding ones, at that. Jackie didn't have to tell Belle that they needed to find out where the dialogue was coming from; the girl had already began to pursue the noise.
And then the shouting began.
Belle took off, shouting profanity, while Jackie stared wide-eyed at the display before them. Someone was dead. Someone else stood above them with what she guessed was the weapon that did the deed. Belle was going off the handle again. People were going to get hurt or killed again.
Fuck... fuckfuckfuckfuck!! Jackie dug through her bag for the revolver, finally ripping it out from among a little piece of paper and her rations and her map. It took several seconds for her frightened shaking fingers to clasp over the handle of the gun properly before she looked back up at the people before her as if expecting someone to drop dead instantly.
"HOLD IT! Calm the fuck down! I can explain, okay!?" The murder girl shouted.
"How can you explain something like this...?" Jackie whispered to herself, keeping the gun trained on Samantha.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler KingKamor. 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.
Belle stopped before hitting Samantha. For one thing, the other girl had yet to lift her bow, which Belle didn't think was the mark of someone ready to commit violence against any and all near-at-hand; for another, the girl demanded to be listened to, and Belle, who had only fought once so far, held herself in check. "So talk," Belle growled. Samantha talked, and Belle listened.
Listened. And grew angrier.
Behind her she heard Jackie whisper, "How can you explain something like this?"
You can't.
"So you killed him!" Belle choked. "So you decided..." She broke off, her hands curling into fists at her side. "You decided you'd listen?!" she demanded. "You decided it was worth helping him!" Every instinct in her demanded she hurt for this, strike her, make her hurt so that she could understand the wrongness of her actions.
"Is that how you really feel?" she growled. "That he was right? That killing him was the right thing to do?" She gestured at Jackie. "Why don't you take her gun, off yourself? God knows we don't need your kind of hope."
Listened. And grew angrier.
Behind her she heard Jackie whisper, "How can you explain something like this?"
You can't.
"So you killed him!" Belle choked. "So you decided..." She broke off, her hands curling into fists at her side. "You decided you'd listen?!" she demanded. "You decided it was worth helping him!" Every instinct in her demanded she hurt for this, strike her, make her hurt so that she could understand the wrongness of her actions.
"Is that how you really feel?" she growled. "That he was right? That killing him was the right thing to do?" She gestured at Jackie. "Why don't you take her gun, off yourself? God knows we don't need your kind of hope."
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.”
"He asked you and you... you just did it!?"
She struggled to hold herself back when she heard that, trying hard to resist the temptation to close the short distance between herself and Samantha and give the girl a piece of more than just her mind. But no, no that wouldn't be right, even with what she did. Kaitlin did not want to end up like them, like everyone who was resorting to violence and participating in this horrible twisted game. No, she wouldn't end up like that. Despite everything that would go on around her, she could at least keep that. Her mother wouldn't want her to resort to violence and her father... well, she didn't think he would either.
"I don't care what your reason or excuse was. You killed someone, plain and simple. What is wrong with you that you thought that was alright, no matter what the reason was?"
The tears were starting to come again, blurring her vision more and catching her words in her throat. She wiped them away with her sleeve and looked back to Peter, watching him stepping back and urging Kaitlin to follow. Maybe he was right, maybe they should just leave instead of sitting around there any longer. Nothing would come of talking to that murderer anyways, it would just upset her more and raise her temper. Above all else, she didn't want to end up becoming part of this game; she didn't want to end up attacking someone no matter what the reason was and certainly didn't want to end up causing someones death. But now that those other two girls were joining in on the situation complete with a gun, she really did not want to stay there and watch another person die.
No matter how much she wanted to see that murderer pay.
"Peter... Lets just... lets just go."
Before she moved any closer to Peter, she looked down at the ground. Without even realizing it, she'd let go of her most precious possession in everything that had happened. Without even realizing it, she had let Theodore out of her arms and out of her sight and now there he was, lying on the ground only a foot or two away. It made her heart jump into her throat to see that, to make her think that she had ever let go of him. It didn't take her long to snatch him back up into her arms and dust him off, holding him tight as she moved closer to Peter.
"I don't want to be here... I don't want to be around her."
Hoping Peter would follow suit instead of giving in to the temptation she barely fought back, Kaitlin continued walking.
They could find someplace else to sleep for the night.
[Girl #48 - Kaitlin Anderheim. Continued in Better to Have Lived and Lost...]
She struggled to hold herself back when she heard that, trying hard to resist the temptation to close the short distance between herself and Samantha and give the girl a piece of more than just her mind. But no, no that wouldn't be right, even with what she did. Kaitlin did not want to end up like them, like everyone who was resorting to violence and participating in this horrible twisted game. No, she wouldn't end up like that. Despite everything that would go on around her, she could at least keep that. Her mother wouldn't want her to resort to violence and her father... well, she didn't think he would either.
"I don't care what your reason or excuse was. You killed someone, plain and simple. What is wrong with you that you thought that was alright, no matter what the reason was?"
The tears were starting to come again, blurring her vision more and catching her words in her throat. She wiped them away with her sleeve and looked back to Peter, watching him stepping back and urging Kaitlin to follow. Maybe he was right, maybe they should just leave instead of sitting around there any longer. Nothing would come of talking to that murderer anyways, it would just upset her more and raise her temper. Above all else, she didn't want to end up becoming part of this game; she didn't want to end up attacking someone no matter what the reason was and certainly didn't want to end up causing someones death. But now that those other two girls were joining in on the situation complete with a gun, she really did not want to stay there and watch another person die.
No matter how much she wanted to see that murderer pay.
"Peter... Lets just... lets just go."
Before she moved any closer to Peter, she looked down at the ground. Without even realizing it, she'd let go of her most precious possession in everything that had happened. Without even realizing it, she had let Theodore out of her arms and out of her sight and now there he was, lying on the ground only a foot or two away. It made her heart jump into her throat to see that, to make her think that she had ever let go of him. It didn't take her long to snatch him back up into her arms and dust him off, holding him tight as she moved closer to Peter.
"I don't want to be here... I don't want to be around her."
Hoping Peter would follow suit instead of giving in to the temptation she barely fought back, Kaitlin continued walking.
They could find someplace else to sleep for the night.
[Girl #48 - Kaitlin Anderheim. Continued in Better to Have Lived and Lost...]
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Dr. Nic. 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.
Sam closed her eyes while she listened to the others protests. She wondered, were they really that dense? And to make matters worse they thought she didn't feel bad about it. Bullshit!
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was surrounded by mind readers. Tell me, Oh Oracles, what are my deepest darkest feelings, because obviously you are better at seeing what's going on in my head than I am!" Her waning patience shown through in the tone of her voice. "There's a difference between not feeling anything and not advertising how crappy you feel, and I've always been a 'bottle-it-up' kinda person! Working through shit like that is why my friends insisted that I come on the senior trip."
She stood up and brushed herself off, "As for me being a murderer? Well, maybe I am! But there is a HUGE fucking difference between various circumstances that lead to that! If this had been self-defense you wouldn't be claiming I was a monster, would you?"
She took two steps forward and picked up her bow, "Have you even done the math?" She walked further, toward her bags. Sam glanced at the girl with the gun; It would be a problem if she couldn't be convinced to lower her weapon, "Only one of us will get off of the island... Sorry, no, that's misleading. What I should have said was: Only one person that came on this trip will get off of this island; because chances are that it won't be any of us. Choosing how we die is one of the few freedoms we have left right now, and it sucks. But if someone doesn't want to try for that one open spot, that one chance to return home then what can anyone do?"
"I mean, fuck, what would happen if someone who didn't want to survive ended up as the one person who did? Holy crap, that would just make everything worse! From what I've heard the friends and families of the people who die on Survival of the Fittest end up blaming the survivor anyway. What the fuck do you think that would do to the mind of a person who didn't want to survive in the first place? Huh? Thinking that this can all end and you can go home without any suicides or killings is outright delusional!"
The sudden screeching of the speakers signaled the arrival of the announcement. The others had already heard the story, so that part wouldn't make the situation better.
Sam didn't really care anymore whether they thought she was a monster, they were plenty bad themselves. They may not be the kill-everyone kind of monsters but being too optimistic can sometimes backfire and make things worse, and that was the kind of monsters they were the bunny-hugging monsters who realize to late that they suffocated the poor thing.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was surrounded by mind readers. Tell me, Oh Oracles, what are my deepest darkest feelings, because obviously you are better at seeing what's going on in my head than I am!" Her waning patience shown through in the tone of her voice. "There's a difference between not feeling anything and not advertising how crappy you feel, and I've always been a 'bottle-it-up' kinda person! Working through shit like that is why my friends insisted that I come on the senior trip."
She stood up and brushed herself off, "As for me being a murderer? Well, maybe I am! But there is a HUGE fucking difference between various circumstances that lead to that! If this had been self-defense you wouldn't be claiming I was a monster, would you?"
She took two steps forward and picked up her bow, "Have you even done the math?" She walked further, toward her bags. Sam glanced at the girl with the gun; It would be a problem if she couldn't be convinced to lower her weapon, "Only one of us will get off of the island... Sorry, no, that's misleading. What I should have said was: Only one person that came on this trip will get off of this island; because chances are that it won't be any of us. Choosing how we die is one of the few freedoms we have left right now, and it sucks. But if someone doesn't want to try for that one open spot, that one chance to return home then what can anyone do?"
"I mean, fuck, what would happen if someone who didn't want to survive ended up as the one person who did? Holy crap, that would just make everything worse! From what I've heard the friends and families of the people who die on Survival of the Fittest end up blaming the survivor anyway. What the fuck do you think that would do to the mind of a person who didn't want to survive in the first place? Huh? Thinking that this can all end and you can go home without any suicides or killings is outright delusional!"
The sudden screeching of the speakers signaled the arrival of the announcement. The others had already heard the story, so that part wouldn't make the situation better.
Sam didn't really care anymore whether they thought she was a monster, they were plenty bad themselves. They may not be the kill-everyone kind of monsters but being too optimistic can sometimes backfire and make things worse, and that was the kind of monsters they were the bunny-hugging monsters who realize to late that they suffocated the poor thing.
((I was meaning to break post order to have Peter leave with Katlin, so for all intents and purposes I'm going to say this occurred before Samantha's newest post. Sorry about the hold up on this one.))
Katlin was right. There was no excuse that Samantha could have made that would have sated any of them. Even putting someone out of their misery... Well, if that were the case, what real other option would she have had? But that was not the case. His eyes closed as he focused on the feeling of Katlin's warm form pressed against his arm, holding it out almost as if it were a barricade between her and the rest of the world. This fucked up world in which they struggled for their very lives.
"Peter... Lets just... lets just go."
"Y-You read my mind Katlin... Let's get out of here."
Out of the corner of his eye, he watch his companion stoop to pick up the teddy bear to which she clung so dearly off of the dirt, and gently dust it off with an almost mother-like care.
"I don't want to be here... I don't want to be around her."
The words were so harsh. So full of venom and hate. As much as he completely agreed, it just didn't sound right to him to hear her like this. He didn't blame her, but just something about it... It was almost depressing in a way to hear her forced into a state like this. He saw her in the Tunnels, he'd traveled with her for days now. If anyone knew who Katlin truly was, it was him. It was situations like this that brought about the truth in people, and he knew that he knew who she truly was.
And with that, she spun and began to walk. Away from that hatred, away from that scene. And before he could realize it, he was following her. His own to feet had betrayed his intentions. He would follow her to the ends of the earth if he had to. He didn't understand why, but he felt an insatiable need to protect her. She had, after all, given him the only weapon she had. While she did have her martial arts, the sword if wielded properly could still have a much more devastating effect.
And again, without realising it, as they marched away from the murderer and her victim, his hand came to rest on her elbow, perched out as she clung to Theodore.
All he could think of was if there was any sanctuary left on this island, if there was any place on which the ground was not stained with the blood of an innocent. They drifted towards escape and safety, the comfort of Bayview and his home. The memories of the past, of meeting his friends for the first time.
A sigh escaped his lips. The words of the murderer behind him lost to the wind as far as he was concerned, he marched on with a false hope of living. Of a false hope of saving those who remained.
((Peter McCue continued in Better to Have Lived and Lost...))
Katlin was right. There was no excuse that Samantha could have made that would have sated any of them. Even putting someone out of their misery... Well, if that were the case, what real other option would she have had? But that was not the case. His eyes closed as he focused on the feeling of Katlin's warm form pressed against his arm, holding it out almost as if it were a barricade between her and the rest of the world. This fucked up world in which they struggled for their very lives.
"Peter... Lets just... lets just go."
"Y-You read my mind Katlin... Let's get out of here."
Out of the corner of his eye, he watch his companion stoop to pick up the teddy bear to which she clung so dearly off of the dirt, and gently dust it off with an almost mother-like care.
"I don't want to be here... I don't want to be around her."
The words were so harsh. So full of venom and hate. As much as he completely agreed, it just didn't sound right to him to hear her like this. He didn't blame her, but just something about it... It was almost depressing in a way to hear her forced into a state like this. He saw her in the Tunnels, he'd traveled with her for days now. If anyone knew who Katlin truly was, it was him. It was situations like this that brought about the truth in people, and he knew that he knew who she truly was.
And with that, she spun and began to walk. Away from that hatred, away from that scene. And before he could realize it, he was following her. His own to feet had betrayed his intentions. He would follow her to the ends of the earth if he had to. He didn't understand why, but he felt an insatiable need to protect her. She had, after all, given him the only weapon she had. While she did have her martial arts, the sword if wielded properly could still have a much more devastating effect.
And again, without realising it, as they marched away from the murderer and her victim, his hand came to rest on her elbow, perched out as she clung to Theodore.
All he could think of was if there was any sanctuary left on this island, if there was any place on which the ground was not stained with the blood of an innocent. They drifted towards escape and safety, the comfort of Bayview and his home. The memories of the past, of meeting his friends for the first time.
A sigh escaped his lips. The words of the murderer behind him lost to the wind as far as he was concerned, he marched on with a false hope of living. Of a false hope of saving those who remained.
((Peter McCue continued in Better to Have Lived and Lost...))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler T-Fox. 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.
It was unfortunate for Samantha that Belle wasn't really the talking type.
As Samantha talked, Belle felt the anger within her swell. It was like having fire burning in her muscles, extending out into her limbs--hot and volatile far outside of her control. Only one would survive.
Only one would survive.
Cold doubt and fear mingled with her fury, though she tried to ignore it. Wasn't Samantha right? Weren't they doomed? Belle was strong, but she didn't have weapons; even if she did, would she kill others? No, she could kill others, but...but could she kill people who couldn't defend themselves?
She killed him. He wanted to die, and she killed him.
It wasn't self-defense. It wasn't suicide. It wasn't even a mercy killer. Her friend had felt weak, and she'd...given up.
Given in.
"Shut up," Belle grunted, and swung one swift palm towards the other girl's face.
As Samantha talked, Belle felt the anger within her swell. It was like having fire burning in her muscles, extending out into her limbs--hot and volatile far outside of her control. Only one would survive.
Only one would survive.
Cold doubt and fear mingled with her fury, though she tried to ignore it. Wasn't Samantha right? Weren't they doomed? Belle was strong, but she didn't have weapons; even if she did, would she kill others? No, she could kill others, but...but could she kill people who couldn't defend themselves?
She killed him. He wanted to die, and she killed him.
It wasn't self-defense. It wasn't suicide. It wasn't even a mercy killer. Her friend had felt weak, and she'd...given up.
Given in.
"Shut up," Belle grunted, and swung one swift palm towards the other girl's face.
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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KingKamor†
- Posts: 212
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 5:43 am
Jackie stared at the girl as she spoke, trying her best to justify her actions. After a few minutes of listening to the girl, Jackie felt as if she understood Simon's plea. She, herself, had not performed a single relevant action since she had been plopped onto the island. The whole time, all she could do was latch onto someone silently and pretend that she was worth having around. Sure, she had a gun, but it did fuck all with it so far.
"This is... all of this is just..."
"Only one person that came on this trip will get off of this island; because chances are that it won't be any of us."
Tears began to well up in Jackie's eyes as she let her arms drop, the gun pointing towards the ground instead of towards Sam. What kind of chance in hell do I have of surviving if I eventually have to kill everyone here anyway? Hell, I'm not even that great, am I? I just act in whatever way goes to my advantage, but... if I survive... Her parents' faces popped into her mind. Everyone else has parents, too. If I survive, then there would be nobody to pin all the blame on but me...
"Hey, Belle--"
"Shut up," Belle grunted, and swung one swift palm towards the other girl's face.
Jackie couldn't even respond in time to beg Belle to stop.
"This is... all of this is just..."
"Only one person that came on this trip will get off of this island; because chances are that it won't be any of us."
Tears began to well up in Jackie's eyes as she let her arms drop, the gun pointing towards the ground instead of towards Sam. What kind of chance in hell do I have of surviving if I eventually have to kill everyone here anyway? Hell, I'm not even that great, am I? I just act in whatever way goes to my advantage, but... if I survive... Her parents' faces popped into her mind. Everyone else has parents, too. If I survive, then there would be nobody to pin all the blame on but me...
"Hey, Belle--"
"Shut up," Belle grunted, and swung one swift palm towards the other girl's face.
Jackie couldn't even respond in time to beg Belle to stop.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler KingKamor. 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.
"Shut up."
Sam moved to block the strike a moment to late, which allowed the other girl's palm to strike her cheek. The sting of the attack rendered Sam speechless for a moment. Her hands clenched into fists, her face scrunched as she glared angrily at the other girl, and finally, through gritted teeth, she brought herself to speak, "Are you really trying to pick a fight, while clearly unarmed, with an armed opponent, just because you have differing opinions on the morality of ASSISTED SUICIDE!?"
She couldn't believe the stupidity of it. Even if the other girl was in the right, that just meant that she was attacking someone with skewed morals in addition to all the other reasons it was a bad idea. Even so, Sam had to admit that if their opinions and positions were reversed she'd probably be hot-headed enough to do the same thing... and the girl was stronger than Sam would've expected.
"I have a quick question for you," Sam said as she started trying to calm herself down, "Have you ever been in the kind of mental state that Simon was likely in? 'Cause I have been, and if you haven't, well... Maybe that's why our outlooks differ, I don't know."
Sam moved to block the strike a moment to late, which allowed the other girl's palm to strike her cheek. The sting of the attack rendered Sam speechless for a moment. Her hands clenched into fists, her face scrunched as she glared angrily at the other girl, and finally, through gritted teeth, she brought herself to speak, "Are you really trying to pick a fight, while clearly unarmed, with an armed opponent, just because you have differing opinions on the morality of ASSISTED SUICIDE!?"
She couldn't believe the stupidity of it. Even if the other girl was in the right, that just meant that she was attacking someone with skewed morals in addition to all the other reasons it was a bad idea. Even so, Sam had to admit that if their opinions and positions were reversed she'd probably be hot-headed enough to do the same thing... and the girl was stronger than Sam would've expected.
"I have a quick question for you," Sam said as she started trying to calm herself down, "Have you ever been in the kind of mental state that Simon was likely in? 'Cause I have been, and if you haven't, well... Maybe that's why our outlooks differ, I don't know."