Resisting Against Fate

[Ghost Of Ravenstar†]

((Gavin Hunter cheerfully timeskips ahead from Mischief Managed))

There were times when Gavin was truly grateful that he had discovered the stoic mindset. It was a refuge for him, a series of mental disciplines to enact whenever input from the world around him became too intense for his fragile psyche to cope with.

Today was definitely one of those times.

It had been an hour since Gavin had felt the damp sand crunch underfoot as he trudged across the flat, seemingly featureless stretch of beach towards the looming hulk of the derelict freighter. His pack had seemed to weigh down his shoulders more than it had the day before, either through some psychological effect or simply because his tired muscles hadn't been as prepared to support the weight again after only a day's rest. The noise of his footsteps had filled his world, for nobody else in his dwindling band seemed to have had the courage or the interest to strike up a conversation with him.

Not that Gavin had had any problem with that. In addition to everything else he had to deal with, the after-effects of the whiskey had made themselves known with joyous abandon shortly after he had negotiated a somewhat unsteady (both figuratively and literally) truce between his group and the group he had inadvertently attracted with pyrotechnical antics. Even now, many hours later, his skull still ached fitfully from the after-effects of the powerful liquor.

Of course, the hangover had less of an impact on his emotional state than the decisions he had made while under its influence. They had been decisions which had split the group, divided it according to loyalties and intents. He had endorsed - indeed, co-authored - a plan which would most likely end in all their deaths if not perfectly micro-managed. He had done things which, if they came to light before he had a chance to act, would probably seal his fate faster than a bullet to the back of the head.

But what had it all been for? All had been decisions made in the vain hope of being more than a statistic, of being more than just another name on a memorial stone over which some fat-ass politician with an agenda to push would rant about this-that-and-the-other while secretly gloating and rubbing his nipples over how many pity-votes this stunt would rake in.

At that moment, Gavin would happily have conceded that he hated America. It wasn't his country, but he was here, right now, desperately struggling to survive in a situation that no other country on earth would ever have forced him into. Not even North Korea would have allowed something like this to happen to him.

Stoicism or not, Gavin wasn't above wallowing in his own misery at times. Nobody could be restrained 100% of the time, and Gavin was becoming unpleasantly aware of how thin his facade of calm indifference was wearing. He was scared, more scared than he ever had been in his entire life. Death held no hidden terrors for him, but what might happen to his body after death was troubling to him. One thing was for certain; he wasn't planning to get thrown into an incinerator, or dumped in a mass grave with all the other students on this island. If Gavin Hunter was going to die, it would be in a manner and method of his own choosing. Preferably in a way that didn't leave enough of him left for the terrorists to defile.

Gavin groaned, kicking his feet back against the rusty wall of the cabin he was currently occupying. Not every part of the huge freighter had been exposed to the elements; many sections had remained watertight after her inadvertent encounter with the sandbar upon which she now rested. After salvage crews had stripped the great vessel down to her bulkheads, an assortment of vagrants, squatters and adventurous junior members of the island community had made the place into their personalised playgrounds. There was graffiti everywhere, some of it vulgar, some of it bawdy, some of it artistic and touching. Gavin had picked his cabin because it had a rose painted on the wall above the bed, with the words For Trinity & Jonathan; I wish you all the best. written underneath in elegant calligraphy. Every petal of the rose was done in a different shade of red, with the innermost petals being the most vibrant and heavily detailed. It was the kind of thing Gavin would've expected to see at an amateur art gallery, rather than scrawled on the wall of a nameless freighter abandoned to the drunkards and drug-addicts of the community.

The rose had made him wonder; had its creator been motivated by love and respect for the couple his creation depicted, or by some other, darker set of emotions? Considering the setting, Gavin found himself leaning more and more towards the latter opinion. The freighter was not somewhere any self-respecting artist would choose to compose a tribute to a lucky friend. More probably it had been a last desperate act of creativity before its creator had taken off his clothes and wandered into the rolling surf below, never to be seen again. It was a morbid line of thought, but the island encouraged morbidity.

Still, Gavin appreciated the artwork as he rested listlessly on an old, creaking chair by the cabin's viewing portal. The glass was crusted with streaks of rust on the outside and coated with a film of dust on the inside, but by rubbing fiercely at it with a rag Gavin had been able to let a few dim rays of morning sunshine illuminate his chosen resting place. This cabin had been relatively intact when he'd found it; the furniture had apparently not been worth the cost of unbolting from the deck, and the bed had somehow escaped being stripped down for nest material by fifty generations of enterprising vermin.

Artistic diversions aside, Gavin was extremely bored. He had sought the sanctuary of a private cabin shortly after arrival on the freighter, ostensibly because his head still hurt after his drinking binge of the day before. While that had been true enough, Gavin had also needed time to get his thoughts in order, and let the full weight of responsibility sink in. Unfortunately, this had resulted in a wave of depression that he was only just beginning to surface from.

I don't even know why I'm complaining. He thought despondently. At least I actually have some hope, as opposed to all those kids wandering around outside just waiting for the grim reaper to come and pluck them from this mortal coil. I mean really; what hardships have I endured over the past few days besides lugging a heavy pack around and getting a hangover? I've found Megan, I've assembled a team, and I have a plan... so why do I still feel so depressed?

A humourless chuckle found its way out of Gavin's mouth as he contemplated these thoughts. In truth he knew precisely why he felt so awful; it was simple burnout. He had been on the go since minute one of day one, and now when it came time to simply sit and wait for something beyond his control to happen all the biological machinery that had kept him in tip-top condition had simply gone into standby mode. He had been all geared up for a crescendo of activity, and now said crescendo had been postponed for several hours.

On a conceptual level, Gavin didn't have any problem with this; the group needed a decent rest before doing anything else. They were all tired after a day spent cannibalising the apartments for the materials needed to make the makeshift bombs that most of his efforts on the island had been focused around acquiring. The bombs were horrible weapons, mixtures of blasting powder and shrapnel rammed down into metal pipes that when detonated would leave men eviscerated, blinded and screaming. All things considered, they were the kind of weapons that Al Qaeda would've whole-heartedly endorsed as being perfect instruments for the slaying of Western Demons.

The irony of using weapons most closely associated with terrorism to kill terrorists was not lost upon Gavin. Of course, hopefully the terrorists didn't know that they were his intended targets yet. It was a constant worry to him that they might've slipped up somewhere, letting on more than they should have. As far as the terrorists should be aware, the group had been formed on the principle of safety in numbers, and their cause for being at the freighter was to establish a secure base of operations - for the duration of the day, at least.

Everything was subterfuge to a greater or lesser degree, and cloaked in plausible deniability wherever possible. Gavin personally didn't care in the slightest if the terrorists suspected him of planning something or not. All that mattered was keeping them guessing about the exact method for just long enough...

It helped that his plan was the kind that only a truly insane or truly autistic person would dream up.

If nothing else, my death ought to go down as one of the most pyrotechnic in SoTF history.

It was that thought which finally got Gavin moving again. He grabbed the sides of his bolted chair and pushed himself to his feet, gritting his teeth against the small rush of pain that the sudden motion sent through his still-tender skull. With nothing physical worth doing, he strode over to where his backpack lay and fished inside for the map of the island. Once his questing fingers had secured the folded sheet of paper he withdrew it from the pack and spread the map out on the bare plastic table in the centre of the room. By sitting in the chair opposite the window and squinting a bit, Gavin was just able to make out the details in the dim light that strained through the cabin portal. The map had been extensively annotated since the groups had merged – Gavin had ensured that everyone had marked the borders of the new danger zones, as well as several areas that they had determined might make good alternatives to the freighter if they were ever forced to abandon it.

There has to be something I can add to this. Gavin thought as he stared at the unfolded sheet before him. He still had a pencil that he had borrowed from Karen in the breast pocket of his trenchcoat, and he used it to draw a few lines on the map between locations, calculating the approximate distance between them and how long it would take to get there at walking pace.

It was no good, the tension persisted. The little diagrams did nothing but make the weight on his shoulders increase. He needed something else, something important to do, something that both made him feel as if he'd achieved something while helping him relax at the same time.

The solution, when it arrived, struck Gavin like a small bolt of lightning. Of course! It was all so simple. Grinning broadly with the triumph that came with solving his conundrum, Gavin flipped the map over so the blank side was uppermost and lowered his pencil to the paper. By the time he began to trace letters on the thick travel-proof paper, the tension was already a distant memory.

[Grim Wolf]

(Karen Idel advancing from Level 6)

Karen felt dizzy. Not with tiredness, hunger, or sickness, but with a psychotic euphoria.

It couldn't be this easy. She shouldn't be so lucky. Nothing should ever go so smoothly. But...

But her notes had gone farther than she thought. Pulled together a bigger group than she'd ever expected. And in that ground lay the seeds of a plan she could never have assembled.

Depending on others was fragility, but it was also necessity. She was a girl with experience only in planning. Her weak body, her piss-poor information, none of those could have led her to construct as daring a plan as they'd concocted. But the truth was, even if she had all the experience necessary to create such a plan, she would still have needed people.

So. Here she was. Waiting for the hammer to drop.

The plan was simple, relatively speaking. One group to try to escape, with a whole series of contingencies for success. One sleeper cell to break off after a very public fight, so that the plan could be adapted and carried out even if the worst came. An attempt to try and find a corpse.

But the more time that passed, the better the chances their little band would be cut to pieces or found out. So if they couldn't...if they really couldn't...

They'd have to take a risk. Or rather, she'd have to take a risk.

Her throat felt very tight, but even the little wheeze in her breath made her feel alive.

[Jilly]

((Megan Emerson continued from The Verdana Sisterhood))

Ever since parting with Bella's group earlier, Megan had an uneasy feeling. Butterflies fluttered about in her stomach and would not relent with each passing moment as the time to carry out the plan drew near. She couldn't stop shaking the feeling that, no matter how this was gonna go down, something would go wrong. Like it was destined in the stars or some flighty crap like that.

It was a perfect plan, though; she couldn't deny that. But it was extremely dangerous, not to mention risky.

That wasn't what was bothering her, though. But, at the same time, she didn't know what it was.

Whatever. She was just going to have to let it ride and trust Gavin's judgment. Of course it wasn't too late to just jump ship, but they needed her. Gavin needed her. She couldn't let them down just because of her own fears.

And one of those moments he needed her for was now, to be his friggin' nurse.

Megan didn't exactly have a degree in hangovers, but she did suddenly remember seeing something on TV a long time ago that painkillers and water were just about the best thing you could do besides simply writhing in agony while there was a non-stop fiesta in your head. She dug around the medi-kit for a bit and found some ibuprofen, so would that work? Of course it was a stupid idea to mix alcohol and meds, but now that quite a few hours have passed it should be safe, right? That was her logic, anyway.

And besides, she was getting annoyed that he complained about this headache without doing anything about it. She was gonna shove these pills down his throat if that was what it was gonna take.

Megan, with her last unopened bottle of water in one hand and the bottle of ibuprofen in the other, knocked on the door to the cabin Gavin holed himself up in before stepping in.

"Hey, Gavin, you still-"

Gavin was seated at a table in the middle of the room, writing on some sort of sheet. His pencil was flying across the page like an unstoppable train. Whatever he was writing, it looked like he was giving everything he had. She couldn't make out what he was exactly writing down, though.

"What'cha writing?" she asked, setting the water bottle and pills down on the table.

[Ghost Of Ravenstar†]

Such was Gavin's concentration on his writings that he completely failed to notice Megan's ingress until she dumped the bottle of water and the pills down on his table. The intrusion on his hitherto uninterrupted chain of thoughts caused him to jump violently, sending the pencil skittering across the table and down onto the floor.

"Ohgod whatare-" he stuttered, staring up at the uncomprehending face before him like a deer caught in the headlights of an onrushing forty-tonner. His hands scrabbled desperately at the corners of the map, trying to fold it in such a way that it would hide the incriminating words that he was certain Megan could somehow read with absolute precision, despite standing on the wrong side of the table and having to squint through the gloomy lighting conditions.

"Uhm..." he tried, "what-I mean why did you intrude upon my private musings without first announcing your presence?"

His voice was unusually shrill, and even as the words slipped from his tongue he registered the fact that Megan had knocked after all, and that he had been far too preoccupied writing his damnable magnum opus to have noted her entry. My god! Gabbled his slightly unhinged subconscious, which had for once lost control over the tiny fragment of sanity it usually clung to during even the worst maelstroms of emotion, if she finds out what I've written, the whole plan could fall apart!

"So, uh..." Gavin rallied, attempting to improvise even while surreptitiously fielding the map against his chest in a way he hoped Megan wouldn't notice. "...writing, you say? Oh, nothing, nothing. What, uh, brings you to my cabin at this hour? I thought you were all, uh... resting!"

[Jilly]

Whatever Gavin was writing, he sure didn't want Megan to see it. Whatever secrets he had on there, though, was now on her mind. What could it be? She had to see it for herself.

Call it the Streisand Effect.

Megan smirked at the thought, gave a noncommittal "Mhm", and handed him the water and pills. "Here, I thought you might want to take these if you're still feeling badly. Oh, and I think Karen wanted to talk to you about something... unless, of course, you're busy or something."

[Ghost Of Ravenstar†]

Gavin looked at the pills, then he looked at Megan, then he looked back down at the pills. It was a tough choice; potentially fudged aim due to painkillers, or invoking Megan's wrath at failing to take them.

"Tell you what..." he began after an uncomfortable pause, "I'll take one, as I'm feeling a bit better now, and I don't want to screw up my aim."

It was a reasonable compromise, and Gavin waited for Megan's nod of approval before he took the bottle of water, offered her a rather belated 'thank you', and took a large sip along with one of the painkillers.

"So Karen wanted to see me, you say?" He asked once the pill had worked it's way down his throat. "I suppose she wants to iron out some tactical points about defending the freighter from killers or something... I'll go see what she wants and be back as quick as I can."

He rose awkwardly, still holding the map loosely against his chest. Megan's sudden, abrupt entrance had caught him with his guard about as far down as it had been possible to be, and the addition of her presence was just one more emotional factor that he didn't feel capable of dealing with at the moment. Trying to focus his mind fully on whatever it was Karen might want, he made his way around the table towards the door.

[Jilly]

Megan rolled her eyes as Gavin begrudgingly took one of the ibuprofen pills and rose out of his seat with the paper still clutched to his chest like he was having a heart attack. Unless she acted now, she was probably never going to see what he was writing.

Then the idea came to her with a mischievous smile.

She shadowed Gavin as he made his way to the threshold and stepped through to the other side. Now was the time to strike.

With a simple "Oh, one more thing...", Gavin fell into her trap and turned back around to her with the paper facing forward. In a swift motion she snatched the paper from his clutches and locked the door behind him before he had a chance to react.

She pressed her back against the door and bit her tongue to stifle the giggles. Oh God, she forgot how good it felt to just fuck with Gavin. He was such an easy, gullible person. Sometimes she did feel bad about teasing, ya know, the autistic kid so much, but he always seemed to know it was just in the spirit of fun so he never got that worked up about it... unless, of course, he secretly had a big payback scheme he had been planning for years.

Anyway, now it was time to see what the whole fuss was about. She slide down the door and unfolded the page, which apparently was just the map of the island everyone got with their bags. Nothing really exciting on this side, Gavin just had markings for the danger zones and boring stuff like that.

The reverse side was an entirely different story, though. It was a massive wall of words that pretty much covered the page, except that it ended abruptly, probably when he noticed Megan in the room.

Man, Gavin always had such pretty handwriting.

Megan decided to take the plunge and glance over what he was obsessing about just moments ago. Slowly and surely, though, whatever emotions were going through her head before were now drowning in a massive sea of cringe. As she read more of it, she regretted taking the paper from him. It was just so...

So...

...Gavin got his payback, one way or the other.

[Grim Wolf]

But hours spent restless, wondering what would come next, wondering how this plan would break down and fall apart, were hardly conducive. Not that she might survive much longer, but she needed to get moving.

So she made her way through the creaking freighter, throat and chest tight, everything a little dizzy. A part of her paranoid brain was still wondering what horrifying molds might be in this ship, poisoning her. It didn't matter, of course--she wouldn't be alive long enough for it to matter--but still she worried about it.

She didn't use her inhaler, though. Couldn't afford to.

She arrived just in time for the door to slam in Gavin's face. "Uh," she started, her voice cracking and troubled by a faint wheeze. "What's...what's going on?"

[Ghost Of Ravenstar†]

Like many things on the island, Megan's betrayal came fast and furious. Gavin barely had time to register the sudden vacancy of the paper in his hands before he was staring at a closed door and hearing the sound of the lock being slid into place. For about ten seconds he just stood there, gaping like a landed fish, his mind spinning in circles at the sheer enormity of what had just taken place.

"You...you...how..." He finally sputtered, the sentence trailing off unfinished and unheard through the solid wooden cabin door. His fists clenched and unclenched as he attempted to martial some conformity into his jumbled thoughts. He was just on the point of unleashing the full pent-up force of his English wrath upon the unfortunate woodwork before him when he suddenly became aware of Karen Idel standing just a few feet away and staring at him in bewilderment. A few moments passed as Gavin's mouth worked soundlessly on an explanation he knew would be utterly incomprehensible even if he could somehow force it past his larynx. In the end he just gave up on any attempt at speaking and slumped back against the opposite wall, resting his head back against the unyielding metal of the hull and letting out a long, deep sigh of defeat.

"Hi Karen," he eventually managed. "So nice to see you here, what can I do for you?"

[Jilly]

=============================================

Lustful Lips An True Hero Hunter Gaben Savs The World!


Kimberly luged the injured Kris with her through the dark wood as darkness approached in the wood. "Wow it is getting dark," said Kimberly noting the night approaching.

"Yes it is. And I am glad we killed Ilri Illaro that guy before he could kill us," Kris said tiredly. She slipped and and tripped but got back up so it was okay.

Kimberly set the girl down near a tree and wiped the hyper-realtic blod and beds of sweat that precipitated on her forehead. "Yes I know. But I have not killed before except once."

Kris got mad. burned with rage at the sentiment. "But I have killed a lot. Why ar you not scared of me killing you?"

Kimberly smirked and tipped her fedora. "Although I do not like you I cannot kill you as you canot kill me with such tens shoulders."

But how did Kimberly knows Kris was so tense? Kris pondered the thought and spoke "Yes my sholders are quite tense but there is nothing I can do as it is just the two of us now and there is no one left and I hate you."

Kimberly threw her body down on the hot forest floor next to the girl and got behind her and grabbed her shoulders and whispered "But Kris I like you!"

Kris was amazed at that as she thought Kimberly hated her but the truth flooded out. Kimberly squeezed Kris's shoulders and pressed hard into them and it felt good. "Kimberly your magic tuch feels so good."

"Yes I know. Let me know if there is anything else you need that needs to be touched."

"There is one thing" Kris locked lpis with Kimberly and had girly goodity gooduns for five minutes before stopping.

"You sur know how to make out Kris" said Kimberly

"yes I know but we must stop." Kris felt bad to stopping the hot makeout session but this was serious as they were still on the island with the terrorists and the collars.

Kimberly sighed and said "Yes we must think of a way out of this mess as there are no more people left besides us but how can we do it?

"If only a dashing British youth were here to save us!"

The sky dropped a piloted mecha that landed next to the girls and skided to a stop cooly. hte cokpit open and out popped the pilot as he jumped out and rolled on the ground up to the girls. "Did someone call for ME?"

Kimberly gasped. "it is you! Gav Gab Hunter Gaben! You are here for saving me?"

Hunter smiled and flicked his fedora. "Yes litle lady I have a calling to come here and for saving you!" He awesomely ran to Kimberly and ripped her collar and she was saved! He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the mecha "Come on we have busness to take care of" and they flew off in the mecha into the midday sun.

Soon they found the terrorists base. "TAKE THIS TERRORIST SCUM!" Hunter yeled at the top of his lungs before firing homming missiles that launched and blew the base up and vanquiched the terists as confeti fell from the heavens.

"You did it Hunter! You killed the theists! You saved us!" shouted everone as Hunter Gaben smirked sand flipped his clasy fedora as Kimberly gave him a godl-plate trophie that said Hunter gaben wel done!

He called his best friend Meg Meredith on the phone who said "good job! We will have parade for you when getting to Seattle!"

And then there was a parade for Hunter Gaben!

"What will you do no?" said the reporters at the news station reports.

Hunter span the fedora out to the crowd and said "I'm go BACK TO ENGLAND" before firing up the jet pac and flew off the floate and carried meredit with him back to Britain into the sunset

But Hunter Gaben's adventures had ano-

...


=============================================

Megan folded up the map and stared ahead in a catatonic trance.

All these years, and there was still so much she didn't know about Gavin.

[Grim Wolf]

Shit, cameras could be on them, they were definitely micced for sound. She couldn't just ask for information.

"Uh," she managed. "I, uh...I thought were going to..." She trailed off, coughing. "Weren't we going to look into...y'know, fortifying this place. Making it...safe. Relatively speaking."

But then, there was still the matter of that closed door. "Did she....did she just lock you out of your room?"

[Ghost Of Ravenstar†]

Gavin waved a hand vacantly around at the walls in response to Karen's question, still too distracted by the thoughts of mixed betrayal, resignation and nigh-suicidal levels of embarrassment to pay much attention to her input.

"This place is already a damn fortress." He said eventually. "We can see anybody coming for miles in every direction from the deck, and it'd take a tank to make a forced entry through these walls. We're safe for the time being; we can fortify tomorrow, when we're all rested. If this place doesn't get declared a dangerzone, that is."

A small, hollow laugh escaped Gavin's lips as he contemplated the latter possibility. He had a sneaking suspicion that his activities had been the primary cause of the town being declared a dangerzone the day before. It might not have been true, but the thought amused Gavin all the same.

"Oh yeah, and she did lock me out of my room. We have a complicated relationship."

[Jilly]

"It's not that complicated."

Megan unlocked the door and carefully swung it back open and saw Karen and Gavin standing in the hallway. She couldn't bring herself to look at Gavin's face.

"Here..." her voice trailed off as she presented the folded paper to Gavin. "I'm sorry."

Karen wasn't looking so good, though. She sounded like she was weezing and coughing pretty badly, much more so than when she told Megan to get Gavin. She wasn't going to have an episode or something, was she?

"Karen, are you okay?"

[Grim Wolf]

What was that note?

No, no time for concern. They were running out of time. If they were going to put together the plan.

"Fine," she whispered. "I'm fine. Just...don't feel great."

She turned her eyes to Gavin. "We need to head out," she told him. "Grab more stuff. This place isn't safe enough yet, and I don't want to get killed."

[Ghost Of Ravenstar†]

WELL, that could've gone...slightly worse.

Gavin cleared his throat awkwardly as he took the map back from Megan's hands and mechanically folded it up before sticking it back into the breast pocket of his trenchcoat.

"You're a horrible woman." He said after a moment, though his voice was completely without venom. "Really, a horrible, horrible person, and you should feel bad about yourself. Forever."

Then he giggled; the unusually high-pitched noise bursting from his lips before he could slap a hand over them to keep anymore from escaping. The situation just had too many emotional variables to elicit any other kind of response from him.

Oh god, this is not the time. Get ahold of yourself, seriously.

Drawing a deep, calming breath through his nose, Gavin let his hand drop from his mouth and exhaled slowly through it before he allowed himself the privilege of speech again.

"Right, anyway; heading out. We can do that. Whenever you like. Now, if you really want. I wasn't doing anything anyway - well, I certainly aren't anymore."