Laeil reached down and snatched up the pack as she ran towards it. Having heard no return fire, she assumed that her plan worked, but then she looked up and noticed the patch of fog passing through, and while Riz wouldn't be able to see her, she realized she wasn't able to see him either.
Shit... Looking around quickly in case he was sneaking up behind her right at that moment, she then reached into the pack and pulled out a molotov, the pins keeping the zipper from unzipping fully leaving just a big enough space for her to do so without removing them. She didn't dare light it, though, until she found out where Riz had gone to.
Just then, she heard a muffled gunshot, quickly turning towards it. Thankfully, she wasn't hit, and the fog cleared just enough for her to spot Riz, aiming in a completely different direction than her.
Good. That means he hasn't spotted me yet. Quickly shoving the gun into the front of her jeans, she pulled the lighter out of her pocket, lighting the molotov and throwing it in his direction.
Running of the Fallen
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Super Llama†
- Posts: 339
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:39 am
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Super Llama.
Quincy's heart leapt out of his mouth when he heard the mystery man fire. Before he knew what the fuck, he found himself in his original position, more visible towards Lyn than the other fighter. For some reason, she didn't seem to notice him. Could this fog be affecting everyone else, too?
He wasn't sure what to do next. Aside from an unspeakable new look, Lyn had a gun, which she was stowing to reach for something else. Obviously Quincy was the least threatening of the three students here, and apparently he was the only one without any idea of what to do. Or whom to kill.
He decided to get a look at the other attacker, to see who he was and decide what to do from there. Crossing his fingers, he ran behind another tree, closer to the shooter. This was enough to make out a shape in the fog, a hulking beast covered in protrusions that vaguely resembled muscles.
Warren? No, not Warren, but close enough. One way or another, this cunt would die.
He wasn't sure what to do next. Aside from an unspeakable new look, Lyn had a gun, which she was stowing to reach for something else. Obviously Quincy was the least threatening of the three students here, and apparently he was the only one without any idea of what to do. Or whom to kill.
He decided to get a look at the other attacker, to see who he was and decide what to do from there. Crossing his fingers, he ran behind another tree, closer to the shooter. This was enough to make out a shape in the fog, a hulking beast covered in protrusions that vaguely resembled muscles.
Warren? No, not Warren, but close enough. One way or another, this cunt would die.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solitair. 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.
John wasn't sure what the hell the commotion was but he could see an orange glow appear in the fog. Before he had a chance to shoot at it, it came hurling in his direction.
"Motherfu..." John mouthed as he pushed off the ground and lept for the other side of the path.
There a sound of shattering glass and intense heat behind him. He quickly bat away at the flames that had appeared on his pants leg, wincing in pain as he felt the heat on his leg. There was now a charred hole at the calf muscle on his pant leg, the skin turning red beneath it.
"Fuck this. I don't do fire." John muttered as he turned away from the fog and the crazy bitch.
As he was running from the area he heard Mr. Dayna's voice boom across the island, he payed attention when he heard his name announced twice. He laughed out loud when he heard he'd killed the resident deaf girl of Southridge and Danya's quip at him for doing so.
Hey, I didn't even know I killed her, if I knew sign language I'd say thank you into the camera. Oh well.
((John continued elsewhere))
"Motherfu..." John mouthed as he pushed off the ground and lept for the other side of the path.
There a sound of shattering glass and intense heat behind him. He quickly bat away at the flames that had appeared on his pants leg, wincing in pain as he felt the heat on his leg. There was now a charred hole at the calf muscle on his pant leg, the skin turning red beneath it.
"Fuck this. I don't do fire." John muttered as he turned away from the fog and the crazy bitch.
As he was running from the area he heard Mr. Dayna's voice boom across the island, he payed attention when he heard his name announced twice. He laughed out loud when he heard he'd killed the resident deaf girl of Southridge and Danya's quip at him for doing so.
Hey, I didn't even know I killed her, if I knew sign language I'd say thank you into the camera. Oh well.
((John continued elsewhere))
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
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Super Llama†
- Posts: 339
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:39 am
Laeil heard the shatter of glass and the brief roar of flames. Unfortunately, she couldn't actually SEE the results of her attack, as the fog had thickened again to obscure Riz from her vision. After a brief moment, she could hear other noises in that direction, and, convinced that he was throughly distracted by the flames, rushed in, gun at the ready, waiting for the moment he came into view so she could gun him down.
...only, he wasn't there. All there was was a scorch mark on the ground.
Shit, did I miss? Laeil looked around frantically. If she missed, that meant he must still be out there, hidden behind the fog. He could be anywhere, come from any direction now.
"This is getting too dangerous, I gotta get out of here." Running back the way she came, she managed to find her belongings. Picking up the pack and sword, and then moving to grab her hoodie, she bolted out of the area as fast as she could, frustrated that she couldn't finish the job.
{{continued elsewhere}}
...only, he wasn't there. All there was was a scorch mark on the ground.
Shit, did I miss? Laeil looked around frantically. If she missed, that meant he must still be out there, hidden behind the fog. He could be anywhere, come from any direction now.
"This is getting too dangerous, I gotta get out of here." Running back the way she came, she managed to find her belongings. Picking up the pack and sword, and then moving to grab her hoodie, she bolted out of the area as fast as she could, frustrated that she couldn't finish the job.
{{continued elsewhere}}
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Super Llama.
And just like that, Quincy was alone again.
An oppressive silence descended over the stark woods, making Quincy aware of how alone he was, now. Lyn had fled, as had the hulking monster attacking her. The first question that came to Quincy's mind was the question of what to do next. The second was the fact that he didn't have many options.
Did he pursue the monster and try to kill it? Somehow he instinctively knew that it was a beast he wanted dead, preferably by his own hand. But could he manage that? Not only was it huge and strong enough to snap him in half like a twig, it had a gun. Now that just wasn't fair, why would a hulking monster like that need a gun, too? There was no way he could stand up to it, much less kill it, with his sword alone.
Then there was the question of Lyn, although why he'd want to follow her wasn't clear at first. For one second, he contemplated taking from her what he'd always wanted ever since he first saw her, and why not? He'd killed on national television. He'd acted nonchalant and even cracked jokes about it. He'd even went loony at the top of his lungs, so why not hang himself completely?
But that wasn't happening either. Rape her, kill her, stalk her, it couldn't be done. She'd had two kills already, one of them being her annoying git of a cousin, so a third wouldn't be out of the question, especially since (he couldn't believe his luck) she also had a gun. Quincy shrugged her off. Bollocks to her, he thought. I'm too good to do that sort of thing. But was he? Quincy didn't know if, given the opportunity, he'd follow in Cody Jenson's footsteps. He didn't know if he believed himself better than Cody. He didn't know if he wanted to believe himself better than Cody.
He found himself thinking of Warren's last words to him. It looked like his reform had been genuine after all; nothing bad ever came of Warren's actions on the island. And now he was dead. It was exactly as his dream told him. The deed was even done by the guy Quincy thought was a traitor. What else was he right about?
You deserve to die too, Quincy!
No.
That part wasn't real. He needed it not to be real. He needed so much not to be real, he could scarcely think of where to begin. Then it hit him. SOTF. That was what brought him to this place, confused him, sent him into a state of doubt and indecision. Ever since he came to the island, he'd acted in a completely arbitrary way. Why the fuck would he stay with SADD for so long? It wasn't because he wanted to take a weapon and run; he actually believed he could get off the island without killing. What a joke.
Was it something about the program itself that made people behave like this, the same thing that brought movie physics to life? Or was it all a misunderstanding, a figment of his imagination?
Quincy wandered off in a daze, dragging his sword behind him on the ground. Never in his life had he felt so aimless; part of him wished he'd chased after the monster or Lyn after all, just so that he could claim to have a goal.
((Quincy Archer concluded elsewhere))
An oppressive silence descended over the stark woods, making Quincy aware of how alone he was, now. Lyn had fled, as had the hulking monster attacking her. The first question that came to Quincy's mind was the question of what to do next. The second was the fact that he didn't have many options.
Did he pursue the monster and try to kill it? Somehow he instinctively knew that it was a beast he wanted dead, preferably by his own hand. But could he manage that? Not only was it huge and strong enough to snap him in half like a twig, it had a gun. Now that just wasn't fair, why would a hulking monster like that need a gun, too? There was no way he could stand up to it, much less kill it, with his sword alone.
Then there was the question of Lyn, although why he'd want to follow her wasn't clear at first. For one second, he contemplated taking from her what he'd always wanted ever since he first saw her, and why not? He'd killed on national television. He'd acted nonchalant and even cracked jokes about it. He'd even went loony at the top of his lungs, so why not hang himself completely?
But that wasn't happening either. Rape her, kill her, stalk her, it couldn't be done. She'd had two kills already, one of them being her annoying git of a cousin, so a third wouldn't be out of the question, especially since (he couldn't believe his luck) she also had a gun. Quincy shrugged her off. Bollocks to her, he thought. I'm too good to do that sort of thing. But was he? Quincy didn't know if, given the opportunity, he'd follow in Cody Jenson's footsteps. He didn't know if he believed himself better than Cody. He didn't know if he wanted to believe himself better than Cody.
He found himself thinking of Warren's last words to him. It looked like his reform had been genuine after all; nothing bad ever came of Warren's actions on the island. And now he was dead. It was exactly as his dream told him. The deed was even done by the guy Quincy thought was a traitor. What else was he right about?
You deserve to die too, Quincy!
No.
That part wasn't real. He needed it not to be real. He needed so much not to be real, he could scarcely think of where to begin. Then it hit him. SOTF. That was what brought him to this place, confused him, sent him into a state of doubt and indecision. Ever since he came to the island, he'd acted in a completely arbitrary way. Why the fuck would he stay with SADD for so long? It wasn't because he wanted to take a weapon and run; he actually believed he could get off the island without killing. What a joke.
Was it something about the program itself that made people behave like this, the same thing that brought movie physics to life? Or was it all a misunderstanding, a figment of his imagination?
Quincy wandered off in a daze, dragging his sword behind him on the ground. Never in his life had he felt so aimless; part of him wished he'd chased after the monster or Lyn after all, just so that he could claim to have a goal.
((Quincy Archer concluded elsewhere))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solitair. 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.