Everything was going to be fine. Just don't panic and lose it.
((B030: Brendan Harte - Start))
Brendan let out a broken cry as he wiped a tear away from his eye and he sniffed. He never wished to be here. He believed that no one should be there. But life just wasn't fair and he had to learn that the hard way. He had to calm himself down. He had awaken only a few minutes ago and he was feeling a bit woozy. He almost vomited when he saw Mr. Graham getting murdered. He couldn't believe that was real. Bur it had been. He couldn't stay in denial forever.
Brendan was shaking a little and his breathing was a bit off. He was wandering around the changing room in circles. He was trying to count to ten in his head to calm himself down. He sniffed again. He had to stop crying. He had to be brave and try to take matters into his own hands. But to kill his friends.... That was something that he couldn't do. Brendan wasn't the type to physically hurt someone. It wasn't in his nature to do so.
He stopped moving and he shook his head in disbelief. Why would he even think of killing a person? That was an odd thought. This situation was making him think of things that terrified him. He tried to block the thought out of his mind and then he focused on his bag that was currently on the floor. In front of him.
He didn't move to touch it. He just stared down at it like it shouldn't even exist at all.
A World Of Sadness
[Open!]
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Primrosette
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VoltTurtle
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- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
((G013 - Penelope Fitzgerald, Start))
The changing rooms were dim, cold, damp, and smelled. Recently disturbed dust slowly filtered through what little light was making it into the dark changing room, having been kicked up by the room's first occupant in a long, long time. The sounds of sobbing echoed around the walls of the dark room.
Penelope sat curled into a ball in the inky blackness, her arms wrapped around her legs, tears staining her leggings. Why did things have to end up like this? Her life was so happy, she was so happy. Her parents had enough money to buy everything she could possibly want and live comfortably while doing it, she had a great boyfriend, nice friends, she was well liked, she was doing well in school, she had started developing video games casually... she had everything she could possibly want as a sixteen year old girl. Now all that has been taken away from her. A group of terrorists stuck her and her classmates in a game and are forcing them to murder each other. Rather than having the common decency that other terrorist extremists have where they just kill their victims quickly with either bombs or bullets and minimize overall suffering, these terrorists stick them in situations where the suffering is maximized but act like it's okay because they dangle the carrot of survival for one lucky person.
One lucky person that couldn't possibly be her. She wiped some of her tears away. All the crying she had done has made the residual mascara that she had put on before the bus was attacked streak down her face.
She had no chance of possibly surviving. She had a crippling fear of blood and was a devout pacifist- she wasn't about to let this situation break her moral code. Even if she somehow did make it to the end she would just be kidnapped again and thrown into the next game that the terrorists put together. Plus, would she even want to survive all the way to the end? Most of her classmates and friends would be dead. Her boyfriend, Samuel, would be dead. Was that a world that she would be okay with living in? A world where almost everyone she loves is gone?
Penelope tugged at her skirt, mindlessly wanting something to fidget with. No chance of survival, no chance for happiness even if by some miracle she did survive. All she could hope for was a potential rescue but the terrorists have no doubt learned from their mistakes in the past. She knew for a fact that their fifth deadly game went off without a hitch, and everyone save one girl died.
Penelope couldn't take this. The crying wasn't enough to alleviate the knot in her throat, the butterflies in her stomach, the tingling of nerves. She wanted to scream, vomit, hit something. She had never felt more hopeless in her life. She saw her favorite teacher, one she shared so many school afternoons talking to, die right in front of her. Now she was doomed to die with him, along with her friends and boyfriend while some random kid that breaks and goes completely psycho gets to go home. And what about all the people she leaves behind? Her parents will never be able to recover. The internet communities that she was so popular on and knew so many people from would likely be torn asunder with the news of her death. She squeezed her head with her knees.
Penelope released her head from her knees and decided to tug at the collar around her neck. She knew how these things worked. Tug too hard and they explode, killing whoever was wearing it instantly. That would probably be better than getting shot or stabbed multiple times and dying alone, in pain. It would be like how a regular terrorist attack would have been. She would be dead, and she wouldn't even realize it because her mind and consciousness would be gone forever. That's how it should be. Her hopelessness took over her hand as she tugged harder on the collar until-
G013 - Penelope Fitzgerald: Deceas-
-the collar beeped. Her hand stopped tugging on the collar. Just a little further and it would be over. Just a little further and she'd never have to worry or feel this hopeless or sorry for herself ever again.
But Penelope couldn't tug any further. She relaxed her hand and gently put the collar back in resting position. Despite everything that happened, despite the fact that she should have already been dead, Penelope was still alive. And as a living creature, Penelope was still too scared to die. She sat relaxing her legs a bit and staring at the barely visible floor, her crying having ceased for the first time since she awoke. If she was going to die, she needed to find Samuel, she told herself. That way they could have one last night together before dying in each other's arms. It would be poetic that way, and it'd be the ultimate way to stick it to the terrorists that did this to them.
Penelope slowly stood up from where she was sitting and picked up the duffel bag she had been given, the number thirteen emblazoned on its side. She checked the contents by feeling around inside the bag, making sure they were all there. She felt the book that she had been given as a "weapon" and pulled it out, gazing at it for several moments before putting it back inside and zipping up the bag. Despite how useless her weapon was, any weapon she would have gotten would have been a useless weapon- she would have never used anything that she got. A book might be useful for the future regardless, so better keep it safe and sound for now. Penelope walked towards the door of the changing room and opened it up, emerging outside into the gym.
The gym was significantly less dimly lit than the changing room that she had just been in, but was just as dusty. She sneezed from all the dust she was kicking up with her movements, shortly before recovering and looking around the gym to see if anyone else was there. The only things that greeted her were the sounds of the outdoors and her own sneeze reverberating around the room. She looked over towards the changing room on the opposite side of the gym. Maybe someone else had been placed in there, just like how she was placed in a changing room? Maybe it was even Samuel, she thought to herself. Penelope slowly trudged through the dust, carefully trying to avoid stirring up as much as she could manage, towards the changing room on the opposite side. She needed to sate her curiosity, she had to.
She had to find Sam.
The changing rooms were dim, cold, damp, and smelled. Recently disturbed dust slowly filtered through what little light was making it into the dark changing room, having been kicked up by the room's first occupant in a long, long time. The sounds of sobbing echoed around the walls of the dark room.
Penelope sat curled into a ball in the inky blackness, her arms wrapped around her legs, tears staining her leggings. Why did things have to end up like this? Her life was so happy, she was so happy. Her parents had enough money to buy everything she could possibly want and live comfortably while doing it, she had a great boyfriend, nice friends, she was well liked, she was doing well in school, she had started developing video games casually... she had everything she could possibly want as a sixteen year old girl. Now all that has been taken away from her. A group of terrorists stuck her and her classmates in a game and are forcing them to murder each other. Rather than having the common decency that other terrorist extremists have where they just kill their victims quickly with either bombs or bullets and minimize overall suffering, these terrorists stick them in situations where the suffering is maximized but act like it's okay because they dangle the carrot of survival for one lucky person.
One lucky person that couldn't possibly be her. She wiped some of her tears away. All the crying she had done has made the residual mascara that she had put on before the bus was attacked streak down her face.
She had no chance of possibly surviving. She had a crippling fear of blood and was a devout pacifist- she wasn't about to let this situation break her moral code. Even if she somehow did make it to the end she would just be kidnapped again and thrown into the next game that the terrorists put together. Plus, would she even want to survive all the way to the end? Most of her classmates and friends would be dead. Her boyfriend, Samuel, would be dead. Was that a world that she would be okay with living in? A world where almost everyone she loves is gone?
Penelope tugged at her skirt, mindlessly wanting something to fidget with. No chance of survival, no chance for happiness even if by some miracle she did survive. All she could hope for was a potential rescue but the terrorists have no doubt learned from their mistakes in the past. She knew for a fact that their fifth deadly game went off without a hitch, and everyone save one girl died.
Penelope couldn't take this. The crying wasn't enough to alleviate the knot in her throat, the butterflies in her stomach, the tingling of nerves. She wanted to scream, vomit, hit something. She had never felt more hopeless in her life. She saw her favorite teacher, one she shared so many school afternoons talking to, die right in front of her. Now she was doomed to die with him, along with her friends and boyfriend while some random kid that breaks and goes completely psycho gets to go home. And what about all the people she leaves behind? Her parents will never be able to recover. The internet communities that she was so popular on and knew so many people from would likely be torn asunder with the news of her death. She squeezed her head with her knees.
Penelope released her head from her knees and decided to tug at the collar around her neck. She knew how these things worked. Tug too hard and they explode, killing whoever was wearing it instantly. That would probably be better than getting shot or stabbed multiple times and dying alone, in pain. It would be like how a regular terrorist attack would have been. She would be dead, and she wouldn't even realize it because her mind and consciousness would be gone forever. That's how it should be. Her hopelessness took over her hand as she tugged harder on the collar until-
G013 - Penelope Fitzgerald: Deceas-
-the collar beeped. Her hand stopped tugging on the collar. Just a little further and it would be over. Just a little further and she'd never have to worry or feel this hopeless or sorry for herself ever again.
But Penelope couldn't tug any further. She relaxed her hand and gently put the collar back in resting position. Despite everything that happened, despite the fact that she should have already been dead, Penelope was still alive. And as a living creature, Penelope was still too scared to die. She sat relaxing her legs a bit and staring at the barely visible floor, her crying having ceased for the first time since she awoke. If she was going to die, she needed to find Samuel, she told herself. That way they could have one last night together before dying in each other's arms. It would be poetic that way, and it'd be the ultimate way to stick it to the terrorists that did this to them.
Penelope slowly stood up from where she was sitting and picked up the duffel bag she had been given, the number thirteen emblazoned on its side. She checked the contents by feeling around inside the bag, making sure they were all there. She felt the book that she had been given as a "weapon" and pulled it out, gazing at it for several moments before putting it back inside and zipping up the bag. Despite how useless her weapon was, any weapon she would have gotten would have been a useless weapon- she would have never used anything that she got. A book might be useful for the future regardless, so better keep it safe and sound for now. Penelope walked towards the door of the changing room and opened it up, emerging outside into the gym.
The gym was significantly less dimly lit than the changing room that she had just been in, but was just as dusty. She sneezed from all the dust she was kicking up with her movements, shortly before recovering and looking around the gym to see if anyone else was there. The only things that greeted her were the sounds of the outdoors and her own sneeze reverberating around the room. She looked over towards the changing room on the opposite side of the gym. Maybe someone else had been placed in there, just like how she was placed in a changing room? Maybe it was even Samuel, she thought to herself. Penelope slowly trudged through the dust, carefully trying to avoid stirring up as much as she could manage, towards the changing room on the opposite side. She needed to sate her curiosity, she had to.
She had to find Sam.
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Primrosette
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How long had he been standing there? Five minutes? Ten minutes? Fifteen minutes? He wasn't sure. But he didn't want to stay there forever. There was a camera watching him. But what would he say? That there was a chance that he could kill someone? Or someone will kill him instead? He had too many questions in his mind that he knew were never going to get answered. So the best thing that he could do was go out there and find his friends. Just as long as they were alive. Alba, Maxim.... He was especially worried about them. He just had to be safe himself. Don't run into trouble too early.
Just leave, Brendan. You don't want to be in this place anymore.
Brendan rubbed a hand over his chin and he kneeled down, glancing at the number on it. Number thirty. Alright then. He had a feeling that he had to take the bag with him. He still didn't bother to open it up. He wasn't going to do that unless he thought that he had no choice. He picked up the bag and he got back up to his feet quickly.
Brendan gazed towards the doorway of the changing room and he suddenly felt uncomfortable. What if there was someone outside in the gym? He never even thought about that. He hated the feeling of being too nervous to leave. However, he didn't want to be alone for too long. He had to get moving.
He made his way up to where the doorway was and he peeked his head out to have a look around. But then his breathing stopped for a second. There was someone there. A girl heading in his direction. He took a step back into the room. Who was that? Why did he panic like that?
Just leave, Brendan. You don't want to be in this place anymore.
Brendan rubbed a hand over his chin and he kneeled down, glancing at the number on it. Number thirty. Alright then. He had a feeling that he had to take the bag with him. He still didn't bother to open it up. He wasn't going to do that unless he thought that he had no choice. He picked up the bag and he got back up to his feet quickly.
Brendan gazed towards the doorway of the changing room and he suddenly felt uncomfortable. What if there was someone outside in the gym? He never even thought about that. He hated the feeling of being too nervous to leave. However, he didn't want to be alone for too long. He had to get moving.
He made his way up to where the doorway was and he peeked his head out to have a look around. But then his breathing stopped for a second. There was someone there. A girl heading in his direction. He took a step back into the room. Who was that? Why did he panic like that?
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VoltTurtle
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Penelope came to a halt as she saw someone peek around the edge of the door frame before quickly retreating back into the room at the sight of her. She called out to them. "H-hey! Wait! Come back! I don't bite!"
It was obvious to Penelope that whoever it was, it wasn't Samuel. She sighed before she began moving towards the door again. At least she was right about someone being in there, similar to herself. Even if it wasn't Samuel, maybe it was someone she knew? She could really use some company, and even if it wasn't someone she knew, Penelope was always up for making a new friend, death game or not. And if the person wasn't going to come out to her, she would go to them.
Penelope stopped moving again. What if the person she was moving towards was dangerous? What if they had a weapon more than capable of serious injuring and killing her? She could be walking into a trap. Or maybe the person wasn't dangerous but instead scared, and scared of what she might do to them in turn? What if they attacked her not because they wanted to kill but out of fear for their life?
Penelope pushed the thoughts away. She'd clearly announce her intentions, slowly and calmly. That should make sure the person doesn't attack her out of fear. Although that still left the concern of being attacked out of malice. Penelope stood still and considered things for a bit. All of them had just woken up recently from being unconscious. People might be scared, but there's no way that they'd gone completely crazy. Humans are good, and humans liked thinking of themselves as good people. She refused to believe that anyone would let violent urges take over so quickly. People usually do evil not out of malice, but stupidity. Unless this person tripped and shoved a dagger into Penelope's heart, she would probably be fine.
Penelope shuddered at the image of a grizzly seen like that. The blood, oh the blood.
Penelope shook her head and pushed the imagery out of her mind for her own sanity, before continuing her walk towards the doorway of the changing room. She called out. "Hey, just so you know, I'm not going to hurt you! I don't want to hurt anyone! I promise!"
Penelope stopped just short of the doorway before saying, "Please, if you're thinking about it now... don't hurt me."
Penelope carefully leaned her head around the doorway, peering into the darkness of the changing room in front of her.
It was obvious to Penelope that whoever it was, it wasn't Samuel. She sighed before she began moving towards the door again. At least she was right about someone being in there, similar to herself. Even if it wasn't Samuel, maybe it was someone she knew? She could really use some company, and even if it wasn't someone she knew, Penelope was always up for making a new friend, death game or not. And if the person wasn't going to come out to her, she would go to them.
Penelope stopped moving again. What if the person she was moving towards was dangerous? What if they had a weapon more than capable of serious injuring and killing her? She could be walking into a trap. Or maybe the person wasn't dangerous but instead scared, and scared of what she might do to them in turn? What if they attacked her not because they wanted to kill but out of fear for their life?
Penelope pushed the thoughts away. She'd clearly announce her intentions, slowly and calmly. That should make sure the person doesn't attack her out of fear. Although that still left the concern of being attacked out of malice. Penelope stood still and considered things for a bit. All of them had just woken up recently from being unconscious. People might be scared, but there's no way that they'd gone completely crazy. Humans are good, and humans liked thinking of themselves as good people. She refused to believe that anyone would let violent urges take over so quickly. People usually do evil not out of malice, but stupidity. Unless this person tripped and shoved a dagger into Penelope's heart, she would probably be fine.
Penelope shuddered at the image of a grizzly seen like that. The blood, oh the blood.
Penelope shook her head and pushed the imagery out of her mind for her own sanity, before continuing her walk towards the doorway of the changing room. She called out. "Hey, just so you know, I'm not going to hurt you! I don't want to hurt anyone! I promise!"
Penelope stopped just short of the doorway before saying, "Please, if you're thinking about it now... don't hurt me."
Penelope carefully leaned her head around the doorway, peering into the darkness of the changing room in front of her.
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Primrosette
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Brendan had been careless as he heard the girl's voice call out to him and all he could do was stand there, shaking a little. He was still too scared to move and he hated that he didn't have the confidence to just stroll out there. His breathing was slightly loud and he realized something. It really was too dark in this room. Brendan cursed himself for coming back into there. But he could also use it to his advantage as it would be hard for the girl to see him in the room. She pretty much called that she was not going to hurt him. Brendan found it hard to believe her. But when he saw her for a few moments, he didn't see a weapon on her. Unless it was in her bag and she wasn't planning on using it. Brendan would feel so foolish if he thought the girl was going to attack and kill him. Brendan was torn over what he should do. Hide or let her see him? He didn't know what to do. But he couldn't just stay in one spot forever.
Brendan could hear the girl's footsteps getting closer. He needed to move. But where? The girl was still talking to him. She was promising not to hurt him. That was a bit reassuring. But he didn't want to be too trusting. But now that he thought about it. He was sure that he heard her voice before. Maybe? If only he could see her face again to see if he could recognize her. Unlike before when he had blindly panicked like a complete moron. He felt a bit frustrated with himself. What if it was a friend? They would think he was crazy for freaking out on them. He didn't really have the time to think about it now.
Brendan planned to move forward to stay hidden beside the doorway. It was a risk that he was willing to take. Even if it was the wrong choice. It was better than doing nothing and looking like a complete dork.
Brendan took a step forward....
....And he regretted it.
As his left shin connected with a rotting wooden bench and it sent a throbbing pain through his leg. He let out a hiss as he dropped his bag to the floor with a loud thunk. His eyes were blurred with tears and he was trying to blink them back. He didn't need to cry because of something he caused to himself. How could he be so clumsy like that? He didn't have time to mess things up for himself right now. He was trying hard not to swear. Then he lifted his left leg up to balance on the bench gently. He didn't want it to break more under his foot. Then he rubbed his shin with his hands and he hissed again, muttering under his breath.
"O-Owww...."
Brendan could hear the girl's footsteps getting closer. He needed to move. But where? The girl was still talking to him. She was promising not to hurt him. That was a bit reassuring. But he didn't want to be too trusting. But now that he thought about it. He was sure that he heard her voice before. Maybe? If only he could see her face again to see if he could recognize her. Unlike before when he had blindly panicked like a complete moron. He felt a bit frustrated with himself. What if it was a friend? They would think he was crazy for freaking out on them. He didn't really have the time to think about it now.
Brendan planned to move forward to stay hidden beside the doorway. It was a risk that he was willing to take. Even if it was the wrong choice. It was better than doing nothing and looking like a complete dork.
Brendan took a step forward....
....And he regretted it.
As his left shin connected with a rotting wooden bench and it sent a throbbing pain through his leg. He let out a hiss as he dropped his bag to the floor with a loud thunk. His eyes were blurred with tears and he was trying to blink them back. He didn't need to cry because of something he caused to himself. How could he be so clumsy like that? He didn't have time to mess things up for himself right now. He was trying hard not to swear. Then he lifted his left leg up to balance on the bench gently. He didn't want it to break more under his foot. Then he rubbed his shin with his hands and he hissed again, muttering under his breath.
"O-Owww...."
((Asuka Takahara continued from It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)))
Asuka didn't know where she was going. Oh, she'd checked her bag, alright. She knew she had a map. The map didn't have a fucking thing to do with it. She didn't know where she was going because she didn't care where she was going, so everyone who thought that she was careless enough to forget about the map or clueless enough to get lost using it could shut up and go home.
Okay, so she would've gotten totally lost if she'd used the map. But semantics are important and shit, and so long as she wasn't trying to get somewhere, she couldn't be lost, right?
Yeah. Tell her she's incompetent. Go ahead. Tell her. She was gonna stick it in competency's face.
Asuka had rifled through her bag before coming over, of course. That's what competent people do. Competent people also think check their surroundings when they don't have cover, but Asuka didn't give a fuck. She'd thought of it, so what if she didn't actually do it? It was the thought that counted.
Food. Water. First-aid kit. To be expected. Also a WWI-era German gun, which would've been pretty fucking sweet if Asuka was actually gonna kill with it. Still, it'd be good for self-defense or something. Fuck the prepper community and all that, but Asuka could abide by their ideas now that she was actually living in a prepper's nightmare.
Not her nightmare though. Yeah. Her nightmares were better. She gazed into the abyss and shit. Seriously. Draw a comparison chart, you'll see who comes out on top. This nightmare was a fucking cakewalk, and to hell with her stupid shaking body and its stupid fear of death for saying otherwise.
So Asuka had stopped, taken a deep breath, picked a random direction, and walked. A lesson to her body, to show who was fucking boss. Walked across a bridge without cover, headed over to the gym without cover. Kept her gun out, because okay, she wasn't planning on dying this early even if fearing death was for dumbasses. That would suck. That would really really suck.
She stopped at what must have been the front of the gym. Her hand shook as she raised it to push the door open. Goddammit.
A moan of pain emanated from inside the place. Like that was going to change her mind. She was going to have to take some risks if she was going to be talking to people, and she was going to fucking talk to people because Asuka had stuff she needed to say, really meaningful stuff, and she was damned if she was gonna only soliloquy to the cameras. No. Fuck that. Go take a risk. Take it now. Present tense. Take it now.
Asuka pushed open the door.
There was a boy doubled over and a girl cowering in a doorway. Well. It wasn't like she wasn't expecting an anticlimax. And besides, an anticlimax is good here. An anticlimax is excellent. Shut up, disappointment. Relief's better than you.
Asuka didn't know where she was going. Oh, she'd checked her bag, alright. She knew she had a map. The map didn't have a fucking thing to do with it. She didn't know where she was going because she didn't care where she was going, so everyone who thought that she was careless enough to forget about the map or clueless enough to get lost using it could shut up and go home.
Okay, so she would've gotten totally lost if she'd used the map. But semantics are important and shit, and so long as she wasn't trying to get somewhere, she couldn't be lost, right?
Yeah. Tell her she's incompetent. Go ahead. Tell her. She was gonna stick it in competency's face.
Asuka had rifled through her bag before coming over, of course. That's what competent people do. Competent people also think check their surroundings when they don't have cover, but Asuka didn't give a fuck. She'd thought of it, so what if she didn't actually do it? It was the thought that counted.
Food. Water. First-aid kit. To be expected. Also a WWI-era German gun, which would've been pretty fucking sweet if Asuka was actually gonna kill with it. Still, it'd be good for self-defense or something. Fuck the prepper community and all that, but Asuka could abide by their ideas now that she was actually living in a prepper's nightmare.
Not her nightmare though. Yeah. Her nightmares were better. She gazed into the abyss and shit. Seriously. Draw a comparison chart, you'll see who comes out on top. This nightmare was a fucking cakewalk, and to hell with her stupid shaking body and its stupid fear of death for saying otherwise.
So Asuka had stopped, taken a deep breath, picked a random direction, and walked. A lesson to her body, to show who was fucking boss. Walked across a bridge without cover, headed over to the gym without cover. Kept her gun out, because okay, she wasn't planning on dying this early even if fearing death was for dumbasses. That would suck. That would really really suck.
She stopped at what must have been the front of the gym. Her hand shook as she raised it to push the door open. Goddammit.
A moan of pain emanated from inside the place. Like that was going to change her mind. She was going to have to take some risks if she was going to be talking to people, and she was going to fucking talk to people because Asuka had stuff she needed to say, really meaningful stuff, and she was damned if she was gonna only soliloquy to the cameras. No. Fuck that. Go take a risk. Take it now. Present tense. Take it now.
Asuka pushed open the door.
There was a boy doubled over and a girl cowering in a doorway. Well. It wasn't like she wasn't expecting an anticlimax. And besides, an anticlimax is good here. An anticlimax is excellent. Shut up, disappointment. Relief's better than you.
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VoltTurtle
- Posts: 801
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
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Penelope jumped back slightly when she heard the thunk of a leg against wood and the whump of a bag hitting the floor.
Penelope sat and listened to the boy hiss and moan slightly for a few seconds, before hearing the gym door open. Penelope turned her head towards the source of the noise and saw a girl standing in the doorway, light pouring in and obscuring her visage. Penelope froze, staring at the girl for a solid six seconds, before pulling herself into the changing room with the boy and closing the door behind her. She had no idea who that girl was or what she was doing here, but Penelope didn't want anything to do with her. It's one thing when she has the opportunity to approach someone on her own terms and tell them that she's no threat, but it's another thing entirely when she's caught completely flat footed.
Penelope glanced around the now almost entirely dark changing room, the only light coming from underneath the door she had just closed. She might as well call out to the boy that's in here with her. "Hello? I heard you hit something. Are you okay?"
Penelope shuffled slowly around the musty room, feeling her way slowly around the walls until she suddenly jumped back, right after bumping into the boy she was looking for.
Penelope sat and listened to the boy hiss and moan slightly for a few seconds, before hearing the gym door open. Penelope turned her head towards the source of the noise and saw a girl standing in the doorway, light pouring in and obscuring her visage. Penelope froze, staring at the girl for a solid six seconds, before pulling herself into the changing room with the boy and closing the door behind her. She had no idea who that girl was or what she was doing here, but Penelope didn't want anything to do with her. It's one thing when she has the opportunity to approach someone on her own terms and tell them that she's no threat, but it's another thing entirely when she's caught completely flat footed.
Penelope glanced around the now almost entirely dark changing room, the only light coming from underneath the door she had just closed. She might as well call out to the boy that's in here with her. "Hello? I heard you hit something. Are you okay?"
Penelope shuffled slowly around the musty room, feeling her way slowly around the walls until she suddenly jumped back, right after bumping into the boy she was looking for.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
It was now really dark. Brendan was glad that he was not scared of the dark. However being trapped in a place with no light and someone that he might not know. The thought had just terrified him. He might be jumping to conclusions too quickly. But he didn't want to stay there and find out that the girl might hurt him. His cowardly nature was kicking in and he just wanted to run for it. He felt someone bump into him. It must be the girl. She was talking to him. Who was she? He was sure that he heard her voice before. He needed to get away. Even if the girl turned out to be an ally. He thought it would be better for him to be alone until he could find a friend.
You might be dead before you find your friends, Brendan. Then you will regret leaving this girl-
No. No. He couldn't think about it. He had to leave. His leg was still throbbing a little. But he ignore it as he lowered his leg down to the ground and he leaned over. Trying to feel around for his bag which was a bit difficult. He let out a sigh of relief when he touched it and he slung it over his shoulder carefully. He slowly leaned back up and he squinted, trying to see the girl. He had to tell her something. Even if he was about to leave her on her own.
"I-I'm fine. I was just a little clumsy. I'm going to leave now. Please don't follow me. I just think it will be safer for me to be on my own. ....Look, just be safe and promise me you won't do anything that you'll regret. You sound like a nice person and I don't want you to lose that, okay? So.... Uh..... Oh, I'm Brendan. Brendan Harte if you would like to know.... If we meet again. Just call my name and I know that it will be you.... I'll see you again." Hopefully.
Brendan was rambling as he was touching the wall and trying to find the door. He glanced down at the floor and he could see a bit of light a few steps in front of him. Finally. He felt a bit guilty for leaving the girl. But he was struggling to wrap his head around to trust her. He pulled the door open and he stepped out. She'll be okay, Brendan. You'll see her again.
Brendan then saw the other girl and he couldn't breathe for a few seconds. Then he started to run off, doing a good job of ignoring his shin's slight pain. Did he just see that girl holding a gun? He didn't know. And he hoped that that girl wouldn't do anything bad. He had a bad feeling as he finally left the gym.....
((Brendan Harte continued in No Way To Survive))
You might be dead before you find your friends, Brendan. Then you will regret leaving this girl-
No. No. He couldn't think about it. He had to leave. His leg was still throbbing a little. But he ignore it as he lowered his leg down to the ground and he leaned over. Trying to feel around for his bag which was a bit difficult. He let out a sigh of relief when he touched it and he slung it over his shoulder carefully. He slowly leaned back up and he squinted, trying to see the girl. He had to tell her something. Even if he was about to leave her on her own.
"I-I'm fine. I was just a little clumsy. I'm going to leave now. Please don't follow me. I just think it will be safer for me to be on my own. ....Look, just be safe and promise me you won't do anything that you'll regret. You sound like a nice person and I don't want you to lose that, okay? So.... Uh..... Oh, I'm Brendan. Brendan Harte if you would like to know.... If we meet again. Just call my name and I know that it will be you.... I'll see you again." Hopefully.
Brendan was rambling as he was touching the wall and trying to find the door. He glanced down at the floor and he could see a bit of light a few steps in front of him. Finally. He felt a bit guilty for leaving the girl. But he was struggling to wrap his head around to trust her. He pulled the door open and he stepped out. She'll be okay, Brendan. You'll see her again.
Brendan then saw the other girl and he couldn't breathe for a few seconds. Then he started to run off, doing a good job of ignoring his shin's slight pain. Did he just see that girl holding a gun? He didn't know. And he hoped that that girl wouldn't do anything bad. He had a bad feeling as he finally left the gym.....
((Brendan Harte continued in No Way To Survive))
They were ignoring her.
Oh well. Asuka was too used to being ignored to mind. She'd spent a lifetime being ignored, even gotten to like it a little. She'd gotten rather good at staying invisible, at stepping lightly and leaving a light touch on everything she touched, because fuck do things go wrong when she leaves a heavy impact. And it was better to be invisible than to be hated.
Fuck, Asuka hoped these kids didn't hate her guts. That was totally, like, up to them though. It wasn't like she could tell people how to think or anything. But still.
Of all the times to cry about being lonely. Of all the reasons to cry when you're stuck on Hellmurder Island. No, it's not getting a rename. Asuka chuckled a little through her sniffles. God, this was pathetic.
Could've been worse though. She could've started full-on bawling or something. Except Asuka didn't think she could do that even if she watched someone get killed. That was pitiful in its own way, probably.
Shh shh stop your sniffling, get a hold of yourself, little girl. You only look towards yourself for validation, don't you? That's right. The hell with what other people think about you, your perspective, the things you care about. But, fuck, she needed to talk to someone about it. Needed to get it out there, because talking to herself all the time got her stuck inside her head and made her lonely.
It made her a nihilist and a solipsist. It made her go and dream the day away, because there was nothing that could be said or done that was worth saying or doing. So get your head out of your head, or put the outside world into your head, or whatever. Say your piece and live the dream.
And here she was getting her hopes up that maybe, just maybe, when most everyone was about to die, they'd all be able to find some common ground and set aside all the petty shit. Talk, listen, live and let live and all that. Die peaceful and happy and content. Together. That's what we all want, right?
Right?
And it looked like she was right. Because there was Penelope asking if Brendan was okay, and there was Brendan asking Penelope to take care of herself. See? It was glorious. It was beautiful.
Asuka needed to say her piece. Not as a speech, though. You don't shove the theme or message or whatever down the audience's throat. Yeah, it'd make them understand, but it wouldn't deliver that warm and fuzzy feeling that was the whole point of her message. It wouldn't work quite the same as seeing some doomed kids actually hug each other.
So as the boy bolted out the door and disappeared into the distance, Asuka turned to the remaining girl, Penelope, this girl who was scared of her for some reason, and she dropped her gun on the floor, and she said, between short sobs, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry about all this, but right now I really need a hug."
There. That'll convey something approaching the right message.
And also Asuka really needed a fucking hug right now.
Oh well. Asuka was too used to being ignored to mind. She'd spent a lifetime being ignored, even gotten to like it a little. She'd gotten rather good at staying invisible, at stepping lightly and leaving a light touch on everything she touched, because fuck do things go wrong when she leaves a heavy impact. And it was better to be invisible than to be hated.
Fuck, Asuka hoped these kids didn't hate her guts. That was totally, like, up to them though. It wasn't like she could tell people how to think or anything. But still.
Of all the times to cry about being lonely. Of all the reasons to cry when you're stuck on Hellmurder Island. No, it's not getting a rename. Asuka chuckled a little through her sniffles. God, this was pathetic.
Could've been worse though. She could've started full-on bawling or something. Except Asuka didn't think she could do that even if she watched someone get killed. That was pitiful in its own way, probably.
Shh shh stop your sniffling, get a hold of yourself, little girl. You only look towards yourself for validation, don't you? That's right. The hell with what other people think about you, your perspective, the things you care about. But, fuck, she needed to talk to someone about it. Needed to get it out there, because talking to herself all the time got her stuck inside her head and made her lonely.
It made her a nihilist and a solipsist. It made her go and dream the day away, because there was nothing that could be said or done that was worth saying or doing. So get your head out of your head, or put the outside world into your head, or whatever. Say your piece and live the dream.
And here she was getting her hopes up that maybe, just maybe, when most everyone was about to die, they'd all be able to find some common ground and set aside all the petty shit. Talk, listen, live and let live and all that. Die peaceful and happy and content. Together. That's what we all want, right?
Right?
And it looked like she was right. Because there was Penelope asking if Brendan was okay, and there was Brendan asking Penelope to take care of herself. See? It was glorious. It was beautiful.
Asuka needed to say her piece. Not as a speech, though. You don't shove the theme or message or whatever down the audience's throat. Yeah, it'd make them understand, but it wouldn't deliver that warm and fuzzy feeling that was the whole point of her message. It wouldn't work quite the same as seeing some doomed kids actually hug each other.
So as the boy bolted out the door and disappeared into the distance, Asuka turned to the remaining girl, Penelope, this girl who was scared of her for some reason, and she dropped her gun on the floor, and she said, between short sobs, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry about all this, but right now I really need a hug."
There. That'll convey something approaching the right message.
And also Asuka really needed a fucking hug right now.
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VoltTurtle
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- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
((GMing approved.))
Penelope stood awkwardly as Brendan left, not knowing what to say as he bolted out of the door of the changing room and, presumably, out of the gym. She slowly walked over to the now ajar door while holding back a sneeze brought on by the musty air. She was still slightly concerned about the girl she had seen in the doorway potentially being dangerous, but she didn't hear any gunshots when Brendan ran out the door, so that was good. Penelope stuck her head slightly out of the doorway to see the random girl... sobbing? Penelope watched as the girl dropped the gun she had been holding and let it clatter against the gym's floor, before letting out a few more sobs and asking for a hug. Penelope stepped out of the doorway. "A... hug? Well, I don't know you but-"
Penelope was interrupted as the girl quickly ran up and embraced her. After a small moment of apprehension, Penelope returned the hug, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist. The two of them were almost the same height, Penelope just two inches taller. "I... uh... as I was saying... I don't know you, but I'm fine with a hug. I think most people would need a hug in a time like this."
Penelope wondered just who this girl was. She knew the names and faces of pretty much every junior at Cochise, but only knew a handful of the seniors. Presumably this girl fell into the latter category. "So uh..." Penelope began, as the girl kept maintaining the hug. "If you don't mind me asking... what's your name? I think we might be in different grades, it's why I don't know."
Penelope stood awkwardly as Brendan left, not knowing what to say as he bolted out of the door of the changing room and, presumably, out of the gym. She slowly walked over to the now ajar door while holding back a sneeze brought on by the musty air. She was still slightly concerned about the girl she had seen in the doorway potentially being dangerous, but she didn't hear any gunshots when Brendan ran out the door, so that was good. Penelope stuck her head slightly out of the doorway to see the random girl... sobbing? Penelope watched as the girl dropped the gun she had been holding and let it clatter against the gym's floor, before letting out a few more sobs and asking for a hug. Penelope stepped out of the doorway. "A... hug? Well, I don't know you but-"
Penelope was interrupted as the girl quickly ran up and embraced her. After a small moment of apprehension, Penelope returned the hug, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist. The two of them were almost the same height, Penelope just two inches taller. "I... uh... as I was saying... I don't know you, but I'm fine with a hug. I think most people would need a hug in a time like this."
Penelope wondered just who this girl was. She knew the names and faces of pretty much every junior at Cochise, but only knew a handful of the seniors. Presumably this girl fell into the latter category. "So uh..." Penelope began, as the girl kept maintaining the hug. "If you don't mind me asking... what's your name? I think we might be in different grades, it's why I don't know."
Well, that worked. That was surprising.
Like, how many people react well to a stranger coming out of nowhere and hugging you? Not many, probably. It probably wasn't very socially appropriate or something. Social conventions could go fuck themselves on Hellmurder Island, so silver linings and all that.
And yeah, pretty much everyone here needed a hug right now. The pretentious bullshit could wait a bit; the girl in front of her was real people, and she needed a hug.
Fucking deluded, that's what she was. Everything she did that was worth doing was pretentious bullshit. The warm and fuzzy feeling was her intellectual trademark, after all.
Asuka broke off. Sat down. "Never met. Name's Asuka. And, like, normal icebreakers can go fuck themselves, y'know? So."
So give Asuka a reason to not just hide under a pile of leaves and turn into a vegetable until the next announcements.
"I like books and movies and drawing and stretching out on the roof in the middle of the night to watch the stars and wonder about the meaning of life. I drink a lot of coffee and sometimes I cry myself to sleep at night even though I don't know why. Your turn."
Yeah.
Like, how many people react well to a stranger coming out of nowhere and hugging you? Not many, probably. It probably wasn't very socially appropriate or something. Social conventions could go fuck themselves on Hellmurder Island, so silver linings and all that.
And yeah, pretty much everyone here needed a hug right now. The pretentious bullshit could wait a bit; the girl in front of her was real people, and she needed a hug.
Fucking deluded, that's what she was. Everything she did that was worth doing was pretentious bullshit. The warm and fuzzy feeling was her intellectual trademark, after all.
Asuka broke off. Sat down. "Never met. Name's Asuka. And, like, normal icebreakers can go fuck themselves, y'know? So."
So give Asuka a reason to not just hide under a pile of leaves and turn into a vegetable until the next announcements.
"I like books and movies and drawing and stretching out on the roof in the middle of the night to watch the stars and wonder about the meaning of life. I drink a lot of coffee and sometimes I cry myself to sleep at night even though I don't know why. Your turn."
Yeah.
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VoltTurtle
- Posts: 801
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
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Penelope stood still, blinking as Asuka rattled off about herself.
Penelope wasn't sure what exactly to say in response. "I uh... wow. That was a lot of stuff."
Penelope sat down in front of Asuka, the dust on the gym floor scattering out in multiple directions. "So... I don't think I can introduce myself as quickly as you did. Let's start slow. My name's Penelope, it's nice to meet you."
Penelope tapped her chin as she thought of things to say. "I play a lot of video games! Like making them too. The ones I made weren't... that good though. Pretty mediocre, actually. I'd offer to show them to you but... yeah... uh..."
Penelope shook her head. "Nevermind all that..." Penelope rubbed the back of her head, thinking. "Oh, wait, you said you draw, right? I draw too! Got a decent number of followers on Tumblr because they like my art..." She paused, frowning. She hadn't even considered her Tumblr followers. They knew her full name. It wouldn't take long for them to realize that she was caught up in this. Penelope bit her lip, looking away from Asuka and at the ground. She hoped they didn't feel too bad knowing that she was gone. The last thing she wanted was her death to make others sad.
Penelope looked back up at Asuka. "I uh... sorry about that. Anyway... if you want a little tidbit about myself. I sometimes have weird lucid dreams that last several nights in a row that tell like, a single story over the course of the different dreams." Penelope began fiddling with her bag's handle. "It's uh... kinda cool? Also kinda annoying when I get a dream that's not so fun."
"...And I guess that's all I really have to say about myself." Penelope finished. "I'm kind of boring, to be honest."
The two of them sat in silence for a few moments. Penelope's emotions started getting the better of her. The two of them were going to die. Two three-dimensional, one-of-a-kind, beautiful, yet flawed human beings were going to have their lives cruelly taken away before they were even allowed to begin. Penelope tried to hold back her tears, before a thought came to her.
"...Heh." Penelope sniffled. "What have we gotten ourselves into, huh?"
Penelope tried her best to chuckle. Barely even a joke, but humor was the only way she knew how to cope with things like this. "I guess... I guess the best thing to do would be to try and... I dunno, get out of here? See if we can gather other people up?" Penelope sniffled again. "I know I want to see my boyfriend, at least one last time. One last chance to be together..."
Penelope wasn't sure what exactly to say in response. "I uh... wow. That was a lot of stuff."
Penelope sat down in front of Asuka, the dust on the gym floor scattering out in multiple directions. "So... I don't think I can introduce myself as quickly as you did. Let's start slow. My name's Penelope, it's nice to meet you."
Penelope tapped her chin as she thought of things to say. "I play a lot of video games! Like making them too. The ones I made weren't... that good though. Pretty mediocre, actually. I'd offer to show them to you but... yeah... uh..."
Penelope shook her head. "Nevermind all that..." Penelope rubbed the back of her head, thinking. "Oh, wait, you said you draw, right? I draw too! Got a decent number of followers on Tumblr because they like my art..." She paused, frowning. She hadn't even considered her Tumblr followers. They knew her full name. It wouldn't take long for them to realize that she was caught up in this. Penelope bit her lip, looking away from Asuka and at the ground. She hoped they didn't feel too bad knowing that she was gone. The last thing she wanted was her death to make others sad.
Penelope looked back up at Asuka. "I uh... sorry about that. Anyway... if you want a little tidbit about myself. I sometimes have weird lucid dreams that last several nights in a row that tell like, a single story over the course of the different dreams." Penelope began fiddling with her bag's handle. "It's uh... kinda cool? Also kinda annoying when I get a dream that's not so fun."
"...And I guess that's all I really have to say about myself." Penelope finished. "I'm kind of boring, to be honest."
The two of them sat in silence for a few moments. Penelope's emotions started getting the better of her. The two of them were going to die. Two three-dimensional, one-of-a-kind, beautiful, yet flawed human beings were going to have their lives cruelly taken away before they were even allowed to begin. Penelope tried to hold back her tears, before a thought came to her.
"...Heh." Penelope sniffled. "What have we gotten ourselves into, huh?"
Penelope tried her best to chuckle. Barely even a joke, but humor was the only way she knew how to cope with things like this. "I guess... I guess the best thing to do would be to try and... I dunno, get out of here? See if we can gather other people up?" Penelope sniffled again. "I know I want to see my boyfriend, at least one last time. One last chance to be together..."
So, what gives?
There was plenty of stuff that Asuka shouldn't have a problem talking about. Tumblr, yup. Art, yup. Not the boyfriend bit, but she had her pick of material to choose from. So talk about that, right?
But fuck, it was gonna go to small talk so quickly. Not that Asuka was anti-small talk. That was baggage from her snobbish pretentious days, back when she'd been young and, um, not naive no definitely not naive because she was a cynical asshole except maybe kinda? She was naive about what it meant to be a cynical asshole. That was it. But anyways, Asuka was most definitely not anti-small talk, because that would mean that she was better than all those people who did small talk. She wasn't special. But, well, this stuff was. Right? Asking banal questions about what kind of art you drew, who follows you, who's your biggest influence...well, that felt kind of like she was defiling something, didn't it? Murdering. Kill your darlings and whatnot.
Well, she'd brought up escape. There was some good material there. Stand up, get over to the doorway. Give a small and sad and mysterious smile, and say that you hope there's an escape, you really do, but it's not for her. Her future was here. Her life's work was here. She was peaceful and zen and she'd come to terms with her death. And sure, maybe, in all the years to come she'd have a chance to do something as meaningful as this, but, well, reasons. Asuka wasn't sure. Could work it out later. But she was going to say something along those lines, because it'd be the meaningful thing to say. She could already see the scene in her mind's eye, and, man, it was beautiful and perfect and pure. She was-- she was gonna make it happen. She was
Stop. Stop forcing your scenario. It doesn't work. Just let it flow naturally, just do whatever comes natural, just
But she couldn't help it, was the thing. Like, define natural. Well, it wasn't like she'd never acted naturally ever, right? See, there was that one time, right, she'd said her mind, she'd told it like it was, and she'd done it spontaneously. Really really spontaneously, and oh fucking shit she was shitting herself because why was this so fucking hard why did she have to try so hard for this shit. Yeah, real natural. Asuka never did anything naturally because when she was being natural she wasn't doing anything. She was a ghost. A ninja. And ghosts and ninjas are cool and badass and shit. So, well, fuck shaking that up, right? Because, y'see, I know it might be kinda hard to understand cuz Asuka's shit at explaining this and okay yeah she's also a presumptuous little snowflake and there's no way anyone understands her and shit, most definitely not, but anyways when she was really in the moment, really really in the moment, her eyes kinda glazed over and her brain wandered off and then she'd trip over a rock or walk into a wall or something. Anyways, she wouldn't be talking. She wouldn't be listening. Fuck that. That wasn't an option.
Fuck it. Change of scenery, right? Usually the stuff around her didn't include people who'd be dying in the next couple of days. Well. Person. Unarmed and shit, so...yeah.
"I think most people are, like, afraid of being boring? Just cuz your life story can't be made into a book or a memoir or whatever. I mean, I'm plenty boring, I never accomplish anything notable, anything worth remembering..."
A light laugh here.
"But I wouldn't remember any of that anyways. It's all the pointless, silly tidbits that I remember, y'know? So it's all okay."
Just fine. Everything was just fine. Well, except for the boyfriend bit. That was, well. It was okay actually. No shits given here.
"So tell about your boyfriend."
Okay, a few shits given. Or something. But it was the nice kind of shit, the benevolent kind. Not the shitty kind.
"And tell me about your bad shit. And your good shit, tell me about your good shit. And, well..."
Yeah, that felt forced and scripted too. Because she'd already fantasized about how this little scenario was gonna go, and it would never be more meaningful than it was the first time she imagined it, even if it was actually real this time. And then she'd never be able to dream about how great it'd be to actually do it, because, well, she'd gone and done it and the magic was all gone, even if-- especially if-- it all went according to plan. She was going in expecting to be disappointed. Not really sure why she was bothering, really.
But if it worked, if it worked for Penelope and meant something to her, well.
Asuka would be okay with that. That would work for her too. Not exactly, but it'll do.
There was plenty of stuff that Asuka shouldn't have a problem talking about. Tumblr, yup. Art, yup. Not the boyfriend bit, but she had her pick of material to choose from. So talk about that, right?
But fuck, it was gonna go to small talk so quickly. Not that Asuka was anti-small talk. That was baggage from her snobbish pretentious days, back when she'd been young and, um, not naive no definitely not naive because she was a cynical asshole except maybe kinda? She was naive about what it meant to be a cynical asshole. That was it. But anyways, Asuka was most definitely not anti-small talk, because that would mean that she was better than all those people who did small talk. She wasn't special. But, well, this stuff was. Right? Asking banal questions about what kind of art you drew, who follows you, who's your biggest influence...well, that felt kind of like she was defiling something, didn't it? Murdering. Kill your darlings and whatnot.
Well, she'd brought up escape. There was some good material there. Stand up, get over to the doorway. Give a small and sad and mysterious smile, and say that you hope there's an escape, you really do, but it's not for her. Her future was here. Her life's work was here. She was peaceful and zen and she'd come to terms with her death. And sure, maybe, in all the years to come she'd have a chance to do something as meaningful as this, but, well, reasons. Asuka wasn't sure. Could work it out later. But she was going to say something along those lines, because it'd be the meaningful thing to say. She could already see the scene in her mind's eye, and, man, it was beautiful and perfect and pure. She was-- she was gonna make it happen. She was
Stop. Stop forcing your scenario. It doesn't work. Just let it flow naturally, just do whatever comes natural, just
But she couldn't help it, was the thing. Like, define natural. Well, it wasn't like she'd never acted naturally ever, right? See, there was that one time, right, she'd said her mind, she'd told it like it was, and she'd done it spontaneously. Really really spontaneously, and oh fucking shit she was shitting herself because why was this so fucking hard why did she have to try so hard for this shit. Yeah, real natural. Asuka never did anything naturally because when she was being natural she wasn't doing anything. She was a ghost. A ninja. And ghosts and ninjas are cool and badass and shit. So, well, fuck shaking that up, right? Because, y'see, I know it might be kinda hard to understand cuz Asuka's shit at explaining this and okay yeah she's also a presumptuous little snowflake and there's no way anyone understands her and shit, most definitely not, but anyways when she was really in the moment, really really in the moment, her eyes kinda glazed over and her brain wandered off and then she'd trip over a rock or walk into a wall or something. Anyways, she wouldn't be talking. She wouldn't be listening. Fuck that. That wasn't an option.
Fuck it. Change of scenery, right? Usually the stuff around her didn't include people who'd be dying in the next couple of days. Well. Person. Unarmed and shit, so...yeah.
"I think most people are, like, afraid of being boring? Just cuz your life story can't be made into a book or a memoir or whatever. I mean, I'm plenty boring, I never accomplish anything notable, anything worth remembering..."
A light laugh here.
"But I wouldn't remember any of that anyways. It's all the pointless, silly tidbits that I remember, y'know? So it's all okay."
Just fine. Everything was just fine. Well, except for the boyfriend bit. That was, well. It was okay actually. No shits given here.
"So tell about your boyfriend."
Okay, a few shits given. Or something. But it was the nice kind of shit, the benevolent kind. Not the shitty kind.
"And tell me about your bad shit. And your good shit, tell me about your good shit. And, well..."
Yeah, that felt forced and scripted too. Because she'd already fantasized about how this little scenario was gonna go, and it would never be more meaningful than it was the first time she imagined it, even if it was actually real this time. And then she'd never be able to dream about how great it'd be to actually do it, because, well, she'd gone and done it and the magic was all gone, even if-- especially if-- it all went according to plan. She was going in expecting to be disappointed. Not really sure why she was bothering, really.
But if it worked, if it worked for Penelope and meant something to her, well.
Asuka would be okay with that. That would work for her too. Not exactly, but it'll do.
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VoltTurtle
- Posts: 801
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
Penelope sat quietly waiting as Asuka no doubt considered what she should say.
Penelope could easily tell which people were the awkward types, she used to be fairly awkward herself. She knew how she handled situations during those times, and it wasn't hard to see the same behaviors in other people. Penelope thought for a moment after Asuka finished was she was saying, awkward pauses and all.
"My boyfriend? His name is Samuel, Samuel Howard. Although I just call him Sam." Penelope pursed her lips slightly before she continued. "There's a lot that I can say about him, not much of it bad. He's a big sweetheart that I can talk for hours with about anything, he bakes the best sugar cookies, he's so understanding about everything, and he's so humble about how great he is."
Penelope adjusted her skirt briefly, before continuing. "And he's not so bad in bed if you know what I mean." Penelope raised both her hands as finger guns, pointing them at Asuka. "Pew pew! Haha..." Penelope paused. "That... was a bit awkward to say, in hindsight," she said sheepishly, as she rubbed the back of her head.
"To uh... change the subject," Penelope began. "...That uh, thing about people being afraid of being boring I uh... get that, a lot. I'm so afraid of being entirely irrelevant in my life." Penelope looked at the floor, curling her legs up towards her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "I guess I had my worst fear realized."
Penelope's eyes flickered back and forth between Asuka and the floor. She had such a tendency to dominate conversations and not leave a whole lot of room for responses to her. She continued anyway. "I uh... besides my blood phobia, at least. Worst fear besides that." Penelope paused, before whispering into her knees. "That's probably going to be a huge problem soon too..."
Penelope leaned her head back to face the ceiling. "Eugh, this small talk is nice but... I think we're both ignoring the elephant in the room here." Penelope brought her head back down, looking once again at Asuka as she lowered her knees. "Do you want to know what I'm thinking of doing? And do you want to join me?"
"Because no matter what, if my plan comes to fruition, all of us are going to die, but on our own terms. Not theirs."
Penelope could easily tell which people were the awkward types, she used to be fairly awkward herself. She knew how she handled situations during those times, and it wasn't hard to see the same behaviors in other people. Penelope thought for a moment after Asuka finished was she was saying, awkward pauses and all.
"My boyfriend? His name is Samuel, Samuel Howard. Although I just call him Sam." Penelope pursed her lips slightly before she continued. "There's a lot that I can say about him, not much of it bad. He's a big sweetheart that I can talk for hours with about anything, he bakes the best sugar cookies, he's so understanding about everything, and he's so humble about how great he is."
Penelope adjusted her skirt briefly, before continuing. "And he's not so bad in bed if you know what I mean." Penelope raised both her hands as finger guns, pointing them at Asuka. "Pew pew! Haha..." Penelope paused. "That... was a bit awkward to say, in hindsight," she said sheepishly, as she rubbed the back of her head.
"To uh... change the subject," Penelope began. "...That uh, thing about people being afraid of being boring I uh... get that, a lot. I'm so afraid of being entirely irrelevant in my life." Penelope looked at the floor, curling her legs up towards her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "I guess I had my worst fear realized."
Penelope's eyes flickered back and forth between Asuka and the floor. She had such a tendency to dominate conversations and not leave a whole lot of room for responses to her. She continued anyway. "I uh... besides my blood phobia, at least. Worst fear besides that." Penelope paused, before whispering into her knees. "That's probably going to be a huge problem soon too..."
Penelope leaned her head back to face the ceiling. "Eugh, this small talk is nice but... I think we're both ignoring the elephant in the room here." Penelope brought her head back down, looking once again at Asuka as she lowered her knees. "Do you want to know what I'm thinking of doing? And do you want to join me?"
"Because no matter what, if my plan comes to fruition, all of us are going to die, but on our own terms. Not theirs."
So Penelope wasn't gonna die a virgin. That was, like, good. Good for her, right? It'd be a terrible waste of time to spend the rest of your life desperately trying to get some stranger to fuck her. They'd probably die in the middle of it, too. Out with a bang, slasher-movie style.
Not that Asuka was jealous or anything. She'd transcended such primal desires. Didn't even rank in the top five of her bucket list.
It wouldn't've hurt though.
And, if she was gonna make a connection here, maybe blood was a really basic primal fear, but hey, Asuka wasn't gonna judge. It was a phobia. Irrational. Smart pretentious people can have irrational fears. And it wasn't like Asuka had gotten any exposure to this stuff, right? So who knows. Maybe she'd find some latent fear, want, whatever. It could happen. You don't find out about that kind of thing when you're a ghost. And a ninja. Like, maybe fucking someone made you feel like you weren't going to die alone and lonely or something. Then fucking would be, like, really important, right?
Well. Dying alone wasn't so bad. It was, actually, it was pretty romantic.
It'd still kinda suck though.
Fuck. This girl was inviting Asuka to something. Tha-that was good, right? It involved dying meaningfully, and fucking off the terrorists, all that good stuff.
Asuka caught her breathing. In, out. Steady. She couldn't stay, as good of an idea as that sounded. Because, see, she already knows how this story ends. Too many new variables. Too risky. Yeah. And other reasons, too, but she needs some breathing space to work that out. Or she doesn't wanna think about it right now. Hey, at least she's self-aware about it or something.
"No," she said, her voice soft. She needed to elaborate or something.
"There hasn't ever been one. A mass suicide, I mean."
She stood up. She'd leave as mysteriously as she came. Which probably wasn't all that mysterious. But alas.
"If it ever looks like it'll work, I'll come. But until then..."
What was she going to do again? Asuka couldn't remember.
"I'll be looking for other ways to fuck up their game."
Right. That was it. Or something like that, anyway.
Not that Asuka was jealous or anything. She'd transcended such primal desires. Didn't even rank in the top five of her bucket list.
It wouldn't've hurt though.
And, if she was gonna make a connection here, maybe blood was a really basic primal fear, but hey, Asuka wasn't gonna judge. It was a phobia. Irrational. Smart pretentious people can have irrational fears. And it wasn't like Asuka had gotten any exposure to this stuff, right? So who knows. Maybe she'd find some latent fear, want, whatever. It could happen. You don't find out about that kind of thing when you're a ghost. And a ninja. Like, maybe fucking someone made you feel like you weren't going to die alone and lonely or something. Then fucking would be, like, really important, right?
Well. Dying alone wasn't so bad. It was, actually, it was pretty romantic.
It'd still kinda suck though.
Fuck. This girl was inviting Asuka to something. Tha-that was good, right? It involved dying meaningfully, and fucking off the terrorists, all that good stuff.
Asuka caught her breathing. In, out. Steady. She couldn't stay, as good of an idea as that sounded. Because, see, she already knows how this story ends. Too many new variables. Too risky. Yeah. And other reasons, too, but she needs some breathing space to work that out. Or she doesn't wanna think about it right now. Hey, at least she's self-aware about it or something.
"No," she said, her voice soft. She needed to elaborate or something.
"There hasn't ever been one. A mass suicide, I mean."
She stood up. She'd leave as mysteriously as she came. Which probably wasn't all that mysterious. But alas.
"If it ever looks like it'll work, I'll come. But until then..."
What was she going to do again? Asuka couldn't remember.
"I'll be looking for other ways to fuck up their game."
Right. That was it. Or something like that, anyway.