Camille offered a cigarette to Val - specifically. She'd never had one before, and she saw no reason to start now.
"I... no thanks." Val shook her head. She didn't say anything else. Everyone kept talking. It was white noise to her. She crossed her arms, hugging herself. Her brain needed to - she needed to figure things out. Correct course. She had known things would go wrong, she just didn't think they'd go wrong this fast.
Deep Red Bells
O P E N (Day uno)
destroy the UN08/03/2019
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
Six. That would do just fine.
"Thank you," Julien said, tucking five of them away before taking out a lighter of his own. It had become easier to have one to hand for those times when he'd been offered and was in the mood to indulge a bad habit. He'd say he blamed Axel for that, but who was he kidding? He always did have a tendency to laugh in the face of what was good for him.
Of course, on the other hand he cared about others probably too much for his own good. So after he blew a mouthful of smoke at nothing in particular, Julien plucked the cigarette from his lips and looked at... Valerija. Hm. He'd only just learned her name. A shame, to say the least.
She looked to be receding further into herself as well, and that certainly wouldn't do. And while truth was agonising, it seemed the best thing to offer right now.
"Look... whatever it is you're aiming for is likely to be thrown out the window and never come back." He sighed. "More are going to die, because setting aside everything else, people want to go home and see their families again. Only one way they'll see to getting that."
Another breath, and another cloud fading fast into the breeze.
"But if there is something you're aiming for, I don't see that as reason to just give up on it. You're going to have to fight for what you want either way."
Julien was willing to hazard a guess that he sounded like an idiot, but he had no more that might be of real worth to say than that, at least as far as he could think of, and groups like this weren't a thing he wished to be tied down to for long. That and he grew sick of the sight of those cages. Looking at it that way, he could find no meaningful reason to linger. So he stepped away from Valerija before looking around at the four of them, Princess last (if her words held the meaning he thought they might perhaps she would find him again, and perhaps she wouldn't).
"Right... I'll be off on my way now. Best of luck to you all."
He turned around and headed back off into the forest that he'd emerged from, wispy trails following along behind him.
"Thanks again for the smokes, Camille."
[ Julien Leblanc continued in Like A Pack of Wild Dogs. ]
"Thank you," Julien said, tucking five of them away before taking out a lighter of his own. It had become easier to have one to hand for those times when he'd been offered and was in the mood to indulge a bad habit. He'd say he blamed Axel for that, but who was he kidding? He always did have a tendency to laugh in the face of what was good for him.
Of course, on the other hand he cared about others probably too much for his own good. So after he blew a mouthful of smoke at nothing in particular, Julien plucked the cigarette from his lips and looked at... Valerija. Hm. He'd only just learned her name. A shame, to say the least.
She looked to be receding further into herself as well, and that certainly wouldn't do. And while truth was agonising, it seemed the best thing to offer right now.
"Look... whatever it is you're aiming for is likely to be thrown out the window and never come back." He sighed. "More are going to die, because setting aside everything else, people want to go home and see their families again. Only one way they'll see to getting that."
Another breath, and another cloud fading fast into the breeze.
"But if there is something you're aiming for, I don't see that as reason to just give up on it. You're going to have to fight for what you want either way."
Julien was willing to hazard a guess that he sounded like an idiot, but he had no more that might be of real worth to say than that, at least as far as he could think of, and groups like this weren't a thing he wished to be tied down to for long. That and he grew sick of the sight of those cages. Looking at it that way, he could find no meaningful reason to linger. So he stepped away from Valerija before looking around at the four of them, Princess last (if her words held the meaning he thought they might perhaps she would find him again, and perhaps she wouldn't).
"Right... I'll be off on my way now. Best of luck to you all."
He turned around and headed back off into the forest that he'd emerged from, wispy trails following along behind him.
"Thanks again for the smokes, Camille."
[ Julien Leblanc continued in Like A Pack of Wild Dogs. ]
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General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
Camille nodded as Julien thanked her for the cigarettes, offering her lighter around the circle - though not letting it leave her grasp, because she needed it - to anyone else who'd taken up a cigarette.
But she had nothing else to say to anyone else, and just turned her attention back to the "Serenity Circle" itself, staring out over the odd feature.
But she had nothing else to say to anyone else, and just turned her attention back to the "Serenity Circle" itself, staring out over the odd feature.
Princess took a draught of the stuff with a measured inhale. Talons raked the inside of her throat with an uncomfortably wide tickle, but Princess was hardly going to let a little physical irritation dredge herself out of her facade. She was, above and beyond, quite used to suppressing pain for the sake of a friendly face. The acrid cloud of ash went down into her lungs about as easy as she could make it. Smooth as silk and not so soft.
She contemplated Val's self-imposed void of silence. Self-imposed, to be certain, as a certain degree of emotional control was called for in moments like this. The strong rallied, the weak wavered. Little esteem to hold the political hack in.
"Valerija," Princess softly crooned. With mind to the correct pronunciation too- these sorts of things were easy to pick up by osmosis if one actually paid attention. "... Just let us know, what you want to do." Open invitation. Seemed like the easiest olive branch to extend. Princess exhaled, noir shades billowed past her lips. She took another drag with a practiced flick of her hand. Already old hand at this thing she'd never to date actually done, and all she'd had to sacrifice was her own comfort. Small asking price.
She contemplated Val's self-imposed void of silence. Self-imposed, to be certain, as a certain degree of emotional control was called for in moments like this. The strong rallied, the weak wavered. Little esteem to hold the political hack in.
"Valerija," Princess softly crooned. With mind to the correct pronunciation too- these sorts of things were easy to pick up by osmosis if one actually paid attention. "... Just let us know, what you want to do." Open invitation. Seemed like the easiest olive branch to extend. Princess exhaled, noir shades billowed past her lips. She took another drag with a practiced flick of her hand. Already old hand at this thing she'd never to date actually done, and all she'd had to sacrifice was her own comfort. Small asking price.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Everyone was smoking except for Valerija; still in shock from the news of Abel's untimely demise, and Claudeson. The smell was bitter, a vile interlude in what was outwardly such a peaceful place. That in itself was quite an odd juxtaposition of their situation. This place was obviously somewhere that had seen awful things occur.
Who put cages in the water like that?
Claudeson remained still, silent. Valerija was hurting, and adding yet another voice to the chorus wouldn't do her any good. So instead, he watched, waited. He looked out to the fringes of the lake, to see if any figures approached from a distance; if there were any lost souls looking for salvation.
He felt more than equipped to be that salvation. To be that pillar.
The traces of a sad, soft smile crept upon his face.
Who put cages in the water like that?
Claudeson remained still, silent. Valerija was hurting, and adding yet another voice to the chorus wouldn't do her any good. So instead, he watched, waited. He looked out to the fringes of the lake, to see if any figures approached from a distance; if there were any lost souls looking for salvation.
He felt more than equipped to be that salvation. To be that pillar.
The traces of a sad, soft smile crept upon his face.
Julien left. Val wished him well. She wanted him to stay.
Abel was dead. He was still dead. Val didn't know if Gina was alive or dead. She could've been either and both could've been equally bad.
Jordan was still alive. Aleks was still alive. Artem was still alive.
And they would stay alive. She took solace in that.
Everything smelled like cigarette smoke and she hated the smell. The shoeless girl asked her what she wanted to do next.
"Okay, so... okay..." she coughed. "We... Julien and I were talking and I - we're all martyrs here - functionally, I mean. We're a bunch of kids getting cut down at our prime, and we know we're going to die, and we're being filmed - all of this is being filmed - which means people will actually listen to us. We can stop this from ever happening again, maybe - I don't know - but we have a platform now where the things we say and do actually matter to the rest of the world. All of us, we have the chance to actually do something with our lives."
Something like what Emily Wilding Davison did when she threw herself under King George V's horse.
Abel was dead. He was still dead. Val didn't know if Gina was alive or dead. She could've been either and both could've been equally bad.
Jordan was still alive. Aleks was still alive. Artem was still alive.
And they would stay alive. She took solace in that.
Everything smelled like cigarette smoke and she hated the smell. The shoeless girl asked her what she wanted to do next.
"Okay, so... okay..." she coughed. "We... Julien and I were talking and I - we're all martyrs here - functionally, I mean. We're a bunch of kids getting cut down at our prime, and we know we're going to die, and we're being filmed - all of this is being filmed - which means people will actually listen to us. We can stop this from ever happening again, maybe - I don't know - but we have a platform now where the things we say and do actually matter to the rest of the world. All of us, we have the chance to actually do something with our lives."
Something like what Emily Wilding Davison did when she threw herself under King George V's horse.
destroy the UN08/03/2019
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
-
General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
Camille continued staring at the pond - ignoring the cages themselves, the novelty having worn off, now just staring at the serene and still water - as the conversation quietly continued behind her. Conversation was scarce. Most people here seemed to not be very talkative. Something about Julien had driven the earlier conversation. Even if it was his status as the bearer of bad news.
Regardless, Camille did not turn her head. She listened to every word said, kept her ears primed for any sudden movements or unexpected steps, out of an eclectic mixture of caution, politeness and lazy curiosity, but she did not see much cause to start up conversation herself. Kept an ear out for any coughing - from an amateur smoker unused to the skill, perhaps, or a slightly oversensitive response to passive smoking. In the absence of that, her own smoking was distraction enough for now.
Valerija spoke next. Well, not strictly true. Princess had said something too. Something important, something that needed to be said, but not something that Camille could actually respond to. What Val said was...unfortunate. Camille did not dispute the plausibility or internal consistency of her argument. Just that...the other six sets of survivors had endured much the same thing, had had exactly the same opportunities, would likely have had some students who had the same altruistic big picture impulse. That didn't mean it wasn't worth trying, but...
Camille sighed, trying to think of a non-destructive way of making her point.
Finally, she settled on something. "It's a good point, but...what can we say that wouldn't already have been said?" Even that sounded too pessimistic, she realised after saying it. It was a sad fact that none of them - no matter how much promise they might hold - currently had the solution to world poverty, an insight into curing cancer, a one sentence premise for a story that would capture the imaginations of millions. That they were all barely kids was ringing true in Camille's mind in a way that it had never done before. The sort of meaningful message that Val mentioned - of stopping further abductions - was perhaps all they had.
But even then - and Camille kept this to herself - she could not conceive of a thing that they could say into the cameras that would actually help. That didn't mean she didn't see the merit in trying. She needed some way to try and not feel too depressed as her imminent death became more and more stark a reality. Despite being a creative sort herself, this was more an area for Lucas, or Gina.
Regardless, Camille did not turn her head. She listened to every word said, kept her ears primed for any sudden movements or unexpected steps, out of an eclectic mixture of caution, politeness and lazy curiosity, but she did not see much cause to start up conversation herself. Kept an ear out for any coughing - from an amateur smoker unused to the skill, perhaps, or a slightly oversensitive response to passive smoking. In the absence of that, her own smoking was distraction enough for now.
Valerija spoke next. Well, not strictly true. Princess had said something too. Something important, something that needed to be said, but not something that Camille could actually respond to. What Val said was...unfortunate. Camille did not dispute the plausibility or internal consistency of her argument. Just that...the other six sets of survivors had endured much the same thing, had had exactly the same opportunities, would likely have had some students who had the same altruistic big picture impulse. That didn't mean it wasn't worth trying, but...
Camille sighed, trying to think of a non-destructive way of making her point.
Finally, she settled on something. "It's a good point, but...what can we say that wouldn't already have been said?" Even that sounded too pessimistic, she realised after saying it. It was a sad fact that none of them - no matter how much promise they might hold - currently had the solution to world poverty, an insight into curing cancer, a one sentence premise for a story that would capture the imaginations of millions. That they were all barely kids was ringing true in Camille's mind in a way that it had never done before. The sort of meaningful message that Val mentioned - of stopping further abductions - was perhaps all they had.
But even then - and Camille kept this to herself - she could not conceive of a thing that they could say into the cameras that would actually help. That didn't mean she didn't see the merit in trying. She needed some way to try and not feel too depressed as her imminent death became more and more stark a reality. Despite being a creative sort herself, this was more an area for Lucas, or Gina.
She appreciated the grandiosity. The smile that set her lips didn't feel like it was molded from crumbling plaster and clay- imagine that, for once. It was authentic. Bless Valerija's snakeskin heart. She could both conceive that they were doomed and still aim to be the best version of herself possible. As the saying went, walking and chewing bubblegum at the same time. Astonishingly rare skill in Princess' generation.
It was painfully vague grandstanding, but it was still a nebulous puff of air bit of scaffolding Princess could proudly stand on before it gave out under her.
"It might not be what we say," and Princess was, of course, careful to sound less confident and more naive than the cogs churning in her head could power some sort of wannabe ubermensch automaton. "But what we do? The news reports never detail too much... but they have mentioned, sometimes, that groups of kids banded together to not kill. It's like..."
Pained her to have to try to monologue with this particular characterization of 'flailing and disarmed' but every character had a role to play, all detail was conserved in a proper production. Yes, even that of the idiots named Anna.
"We can push a cause in numbers. If enough people can agree to not fight and to... send a message. Like Valerija said. We have a platform. Washington- the whole world- wouldn't dare mince our words." Princess gestured, at Camille, at Valerija, at Claude, whoever she was trying to convince. Herself. She wasn't doing a good job of it, she had less the poise of a McAllistar and more that of a slug falling at terminal velocity, but as intended.
They'd all still have to die anyways, but their deaths might as well have impact. Valerija was right. Princess was thoroughly behind this, and happy to be in a way that almost soothed the arrhythmia of a heart nervously counting down the clock to time running out for them all.
It was painfully vague grandstanding, but it was still a nebulous puff of air bit of scaffolding Princess could proudly stand on before it gave out under her.
"It might not be what we say," and Princess was, of course, careful to sound less confident and more naive than the cogs churning in her head could power some sort of wannabe ubermensch automaton. "But what we do? The news reports never detail too much... but they have mentioned, sometimes, that groups of kids banded together to not kill. It's like..."
Pained her to have to try to monologue with this particular characterization of 'flailing and disarmed' but every character had a role to play, all detail was conserved in a proper production. Yes, even that of the idiots named Anna.
"We can push a cause in numbers. If enough people can agree to not fight and to... send a message. Like Valerija said. We have a platform. Washington- the whole world- wouldn't dare mince our words." Princess gestured, at Camille, at Valerija, at Claude, whoever she was trying to convince. Herself. She wasn't doing a good job of it, she had less the poise of a McAllistar and more that of a slug falling at terminal velocity, but as intended.
They'd all still have to die anyways, but their deaths might as well have impact. Valerija was right. Princess was thoroughly behind this, and happy to be in a way that almost soothed the arrhythmia of a heart nervously counting down the clock to time running out for them all.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
A noble ideology, indeed. Claudeson silently appreciated the conviction with which Valerija posed her thesis. Shifting uncomfortably as he listened, still looking out at the cages set in the water, he pondered it as the others shared their thoughts. He was still filled with an uncomfortable energy, as though his body were demanding that he go and run a lap around the lake. Instead, he tightened his grip upon Min-jae, saying a silent prayer that his guardian would never have to unleash its deadly cargo. Even in defense, the idea was one that gave Claudeson pause. Would He understand if his sentinel needed to act offensively in defense of the weaker, in defense of those who needed him?
"Fear is a powerful motivator."
He turned to look at the girls, finally breaking the trace that the cages had over his gaze.
"I agree wholeheartedly; violence is not the answer. A passive resistance is likely the best way to send a message. But people may not be willing to listen to reason. They may be dictated by their fear."
Claudeson took a few steps back towards them. He appreciated the pacifist sentiment that Valerija and Princess seemed to share, though he truly wondered how realistic such an endeavour may have been in this situation.
"The first commandment in the Bible is the one that everyone knows: thou shalt not kill. I believe we are all of the same mind when it comes to that." He allowed a smile. There were no killers here. "But we are motivated by reason, by logic. I am concerned that not all of our classmates will be able to stay that course."
Looking down at the weapon he held in his hands, Claudeson was both thankful for Min-jae's presence and a little reticent to draw attention to it. By all appearances, he was the most heavily-armed person in the vicinity, and he had already seen a confrontation. If someone were to be fearful of anyone, it might have been him.
"As I said," his lips pursed in a grimace, "fear is powerful. What message do you believe is the one worth sending?"
It may have been a futile effort, a last gasp plan to use their remaining days as normally as they could, but Claudeson knew that his path would likely take a different step. He had seen conflict, he had felt the punches from Tyrell as the boy had struck out at him with fear. He had already witnessed firsthand how powerful fear could be. The boy had been shaken, scared of what he had been about to do, and he had lashed out. Claudeson firmly believed that he did so out of fear, rather than any particular malice. Deep down, Tyrell was a good man. No, he wasn't. Fear was there to be conquered, and Claudeson knew that if they stood any chance at all, they would need to understand how difficult an endeavour this would be. Without a strong base of faith in something, fear could move in and take over the mind with ease. Many of their classmates would be close to losing hope, would likely fall apart in the coming days.
Claudeson straightened up, confident. He had his faith, he had his purpose. He believed in the good intentions of what Valerija was trying to do, but he was concerned about the impact of spreading that message.
Once one crossed that very particular precipice, there was often no coming back.
"Fear is a powerful motivator."
He turned to look at the girls, finally breaking the trace that the cages had over his gaze.
"I agree wholeheartedly; violence is not the answer. A passive resistance is likely the best way to send a message. But people may not be willing to listen to reason. They may be dictated by their fear."
Claudeson took a few steps back towards them. He appreciated the pacifist sentiment that Valerija and Princess seemed to share, though he truly wondered how realistic such an endeavour may have been in this situation.
"The first commandment in the Bible is the one that everyone knows: thou shalt not kill. I believe we are all of the same mind when it comes to that." He allowed a smile. There were no killers here. "But we are motivated by reason, by logic. I am concerned that not all of our classmates will be able to stay that course."
Looking down at the weapon he held in his hands, Claudeson was both thankful for Min-jae's presence and a little reticent to draw attention to it. By all appearances, he was the most heavily-armed person in the vicinity, and he had already seen a confrontation. If someone were to be fearful of anyone, it might have been him.
"As I said," his lips pursed in a grimace, "fear is powerful. What message do you believe is the one worth sending?"
It may have been a futile effort, a last gasp plan to use their remaining days as normally as they could, but Claudeson knew that his path would likely take a different step. He had seen conflict, he had felt the punches from Tyrell as the boy had struck out at him with fear. He had already witnessed firsthand how powerful fear could be. The boy had been shaken, scared of what he had been about to do, and he had lashed out. Claudeson firmly believed that he did so out of fear, rather than any particular malice. Deep down, Tyrell was a good man. No, he wasn't. Fear was there to be conquered, and Claudeson knew that if they stood any chance at all, they would need to understand how difficult an endeavour this would be. Without a strong base of faith in something, fear could move in and take over the mind with ease. Many of their classmates would be close to losing hope, would likely fall apart in the coming days.
Claudeson straightened up, confident. He had his faith, he had his purpose. He believed in the good intentions of what Valerija was trying to do, but he was concerned about the impact of spreading that message.
Once one crossed that very particular precipice, there was often no coming back.
Camille voiced doubt. Shoeless girl, support. Claude... Bible-themed ambiguous something.
"Fear and reason - fear is a reason. If people are selfish enough to kill, they'll be selfish enough to not kill, if we motivate them." She didn't like the implication, but it was necessary. "As for message, I think we'll have better luck if we... don't state it to people outright, but instead lead people to our conclusion. People naturally disbelieve what they're told," Val put emphasis on the word. "But they believe things that they've internalized - things that they think they observe, or conclusions they think they've come to. If we need to convince people, I would point out that the last six times this happened all ended with the students killing, but the attacks still kept happening. An operation of this... sophistication implies this isn't just an act of random murder, but is trying to push an agenda - to act as evidence for some ideology. Kidnapping hundreds of high-schoolers and sticking them on an abandoned island with guns and swords is expensive - I assume - so why would they keep doing it if they'd gotten their point across the first time? What if - what if what they want is for us not to kill?"
She coughed again. The smoke was still bothering her. She pressed her hands together.
"Like that. We show people what we want them to think, not tell them what we want them to think."
"Fear and reason - fear is a reason. If people are selfish enough to kill, they'll be selfish enough to not kill, if we motivate them." She didn't like the implication, but it was necessary. "As for message, I think we'll have better luck if we... don't state it to people outright, but instead lead people to our conclusion. People naturally disbelieve what they're told," Val put emphasis on the word. "But they believe things that they've internalized - things that they think they observe, or conclusions they think they've come to. If we need to convince people, I would point out that the last six times this happened all ended with the students killing, but the attacks still kept happening. An operation of this... sophistication implies this isn't just an act of random murder, but is trying to push an agenda - to act as evidence for some ideology. Kidnapping hundreds of high-schoolers and sticking them on an abandoned island with guns and swords is expensive - I assume - so why would they keep doing it if they'd gotten their point across the first time? What if - what if what they want is for us not to kill?"
She coughed again. The smoke was still bothering her. She pressed her hands together.
"Like that. We show people what we want them to think, not tell them what we want them to think."
destroy the UN08/03/2019
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
-
General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
One thing that Camille was unsure about was just who the audience was supposed to be. Was it the terrorists? To disprove their ideology, hamper their recruitment and funding, add a lethal hint of doubt to their previously decisive steps? Was it to the people in power? To spread a message of overcoming, of optimism, perhaps light the spark that makes people figure out how to stop this? Was it the people back home? So they could have the comparatively small - yet, she imagined, utterly invaluable - comfort that their kids died trying, died ardently fighting the good fight? Was it the other people on the island? Was it themselves?
She still wasn't sure. Maybe she wasn't paying attention. There was a lot of talking here, a lot of stream of consciousness chatting, a lot of riffing and blue sky thinking. Talk about the concept of fear. Martyrdom. Claudeson talking more about the Bible - a kind of plane of conversation that Camille had no way of engaging with, being rather pointedly secular in her worldview herself.
But there was something sound to Valerija's argument. Camille wasn't sure if she would accept it yet. There were other things she wanted to do in the meantime. Monologuing to the cameras as a kind of apocalyptic log for her family to piece together and have some last memories to cherish. Finding Lucas. Gina too. That was a common goal, she imagined. Of course, what Val was talking about did not contradict any of that, not in the slightest. But perhaps it could divert energy or jeopardise plans if done poorly. She wasn't certain. She didn't know.
Camille wanted to add something insightful, innovative, something new to the discussion. Nothing sprung to mind. She was not well-suited for this sort of improvisation. She was resourceful, yes, but when it came to the best way to martyr herself, she had nothing. But then she remembered Vault 11 from New Vegas. "Maybe the collars won't even detonate." She shrugged. She doubted the point was to reward bravery or courage, but still. It was worth a try. "And if not, my head exploding is probably one of the best ways to die here." With another shrug, she decided she was on board.
She still wasn't sure. Maybe she wasn't paying attention. There was a lot of talking here, a lot of stream of consciousness chatting, a lot of riffing and blue sky thinking. Talk about the concept of fear. Martyrdom. Claudeson talking more about the Bible - a kind of plane of conversation that Camille had no way of engaging with, being rather pointedly secular in her worldview herself.
But there was something sound to Valerija's argument. Camille wasn't sure if she would accept it yet. There were other things she wanted to do in the meantime. Monologuing to the cameras as a kind of apocalyptic log for her family to piece together and have some last memories to cherish. Finding Lucas. Gina too. That was a common goal, she imagined. Of course, what Val was talking about did not contradict any of that, not in the slightest. But perhaps it could divert energy or jeopardise plans if done poorly. She wasn't certain. She didn't know.
Camille wanted to add something insightful, innovative, something new to the discussion. Nothing sprung to mind. She was not well-suited for this sort of improvisation. She was resourceful, yes, but when it came to the best way to martyr herself, she had nothing. But then she remembered Vault 11 from New Vegas. "Maybe the collars won't even detonate." She shrugged. She doubted the point was to reward bravery or courage, but still. It was worth a try. "And if not, my head exploding is probably one of the best ways to die here." With another shrug, she decided she was on board.
At some point, Jessica had hit the water, and the screams stopped.
The world of underwater was a blur, and Jessica hung in the blur for time she couldn't comprehend. Her head was ringing, her lungs ached, and everything hurt. However, after several seconds, she felt a rumbling, and despite everything telling her to let go, her attention was drawn to the source - a cascade of white frothing water, drawing her towards it like a siren's song. Alarmed, Jessica looked around, her head aching with every movement, until she saw the light. She pulled herself through the water until she surfaced, gasping for air. In a dazed panic, she saught the shore, and began paddling towards it. Eventually, her legs reached dry land, and the moment she had to stand herself up, they collapsed beneath her like they'd never held her weight.
And everything just hurt more.
((Jessica Rennes continued from R T J 3 M O T H E R F U C K E R S))
At some point, Jessica had almost fallen into unconsciousness, and only a stark reminder of what she'd just been through kept her from doing so. As she lay on the shore of the lake, taking in jagged breaths and trying not to let the tide fill her mouth, she tried to comprehend what had just happened. Two of her classmates just tried to rob her, maybe even kill her, and it was only by falling from the waterfall that she escaped. It was a sure miracle that she wasn't dead - if she had come straight down, down with the water, she'd have been dashed against the rocks and churned until she drowned. If she hadn't landed in the water at the angle that she did, she could have broken her bones. But here she was, having been given a miracle, but Jessica didn't feel miraculous. She felt haunted, hunted, like she was being chased even though she was laying still.
So she pulled herself from the ground, stumbling to her feet, and kept walking.
Her bag was gone. Her friends were gone. All she had left was her life, and considering how much her chest hurt and her face hurt and her nose hurt and her limbs hurt and everything was just constantly in pain, which wasn't even taking into consideration there was now a noticable flow of blood coming from her nostrils, she wasn't sure whether that was going to stay with her for long. But she had to keep walking, because she didn't know where anyone was and even worse she didn't know where Reuben and Teresa were and every second she spent still were seconds left for her to be captured. So she just kept shuffling through the water, chasing the shore of the lake.
Jessica needed help, she knew that. She'd just been injured and she didn't know how badly and she didn't know who she could trust anymore. She trusted Reuben and Teresa back at school and suddenly they were trying to hurt her, and had done a job of it. But all she could do now was hope that whoever she found, or whoever found her, would not be the same as the people who put her in the position she was in. Eventually, bumps in the horizon became her reality, and not only had Jessica begun walking through brush and trees much like the ones she'd been through before the cave, but she saw a clearing and Jessica saw people. She didn't know who they were, because she was too far away, and she didn't even know where on the island she was, because she no longer had a map or food or water or her bear trap or a first aid kit or anything.
So Jessica acted on her former instinct, and quickened her pace towards them. It was a group, so that could have meant they weren't planning to hurt her. But Teresa and Reuben were also a group, weren't they? Just smaller? She didn't know what else she could do. She tried to raise her arms to waive through the clearing, but it hurt to move them any more than a sway. She want to call out, but her voice felt weak. The only signal of her approach was her drenched form in the horizon and the loud smush of her wet shoes against dry grass.
Eventually, she was close enough that she could leave the brush. When her feet hit the scene, she stopped. There were four of them, four of her classmates, and she wanted to acknowledge them, say hello to them, ask them how they were in spite of just how bad everything had gone for her. But all she could do was collapse to the ground.
And now Jessica's shoulders hurt. But compared to what had happened to her so far, what else was new?
The world of underwater was a blur, and Jessica hung in the blur for time she couldn't comprehend. Her head was ringing, her lungs ached, and everything hurt. However, after several seconds, she felt a rumbling, and despite everything telling her to let go, her attention was drawn to the source - a cascade of white frothing water, drawing her towards it like a siren's song. Alarmed, Jessica looked around, her head aching with every movement, until she saw the light. She pulled herself through the water until she surfaced, gasping for air. In a dazed panic, she saught the shore, and began paddling towards it. Eventually, her legs reached dry land, and the moment she had to stand herself up, they collapsed beneath her like they'd never held her weight.
And everything just hurt more.
((Jessica Rennes continued from R T J 3 M O T H E R F U C K E R S))
At some point, Jessica had almost fallen into unconsciousness, and only a stark reminder of what she'd just been through kept her from doing so. As she lay on the shore of the lake, taking in jagged breaths and trying not to let the tide fill her mouth, she tried to comprehend what had just happened. Two of her classmates just tried to rob her, maybe even kill her, and it was only by falling from the waterfall that she escaped. It was a sure miracle that she wasn't dead - if she had come straight down, down with the water, she'd have been dashed against the rocks and churned until she drowned. If she hadn't landed in the water at the angle that she did, she could have broken her bones. But here she was, having been given a miracle, but Jessica didn't feel miraculous. She felt haunted, hunted, like she was being chased even though she was laying still.
So she pulled herself from the ground, stumbling to her feet, and kept walking.
Her bag was gone. Her friends were gone. All she had left was her life, and considering how much her chest hurt and her face hurt and her nose hurt and her limbs hurt and everything was just constantly in pain, which wasn't even taking into consideration there was now a noticable flow of blood coming from her nostrils, she wasn't sure whether that was going to stay with her for long. But she had to keep walking, because she didn't know where anyone was and even worse she didn't know where Reuben and Teresa were and every second she spent still were seconds left for her to be captured. So she just kept shuffling through the water, chasing the shore of the lake.
Jessica needed help, she knew that. She'd just been injured and she didn't know how badly and she didn't know who she could trust anymore. She trusted Reuben and Teresa back at school and suddenly they were trying to hurt her, and had done a job of it. But all she could do now was hope that whoever she found, or whoever found her, would not be the same as the people who put her in the position she was in. Eventually, bumps in the horizon became her reality, and not only had Jessica begun walking through brush and trees much like the ones she'd been through before the cave, but she saw a clearing and Jessica saw people. She didn't know who they were, because she was too far away, and she didn't even know where on the island she was, because she no longer had a map or food or water or her bear trap or a first aid kit or anything.
So Jessica acted on her former instinct, and quickened her pace towards them. It was a group, so that could have meant they weren't planning to hurt her. But Teresa and Reuben were also a group, weren't they? Just smaller? She didn't know what else she could do. She tried to raise her arms to waive through the clearing, but it hurt to move them any more than a sway. She want to call out, but her voice felt weak. The only signal of her approach was her drenched form in the horizon and the loud smush of her wet shoes against dry grass.
Eventually, she was close enough that she could leave the brush. When her feet hit the scene, she stopped. There were four of them, four of her classmates, and she wanted to acknowledge them, say hello to them, ask them how they were in spite of just how bad everything had gone for her. But all she could do was collapse to the ground.
And now Jessica's shoulders hurt. But compared to what had happened to her so far, what else was new?
"That seems almost too good to be true-" Princess started, wearing her tiniest frown that was carefully measured and carved onto a mask. To be honest she was quite positive that Valerija was overreaching, indeed that-
she had no time to think, dammit
Jessica the superficially attractive socialite. Crude address, but Princess could hardly come up with better as she started to run to the rapidly collapsing- no, no, make that collapsed in the present tense, body. Was this in character or out of character, that she was the first to respond? In theory Princess the superficially nice thespian was supposedly too double dipped into party size tubs of denial and naivety to pick the useful options between fight flight and freeze?
Hardly mattered. Princess was a marionette being tugged along by some sub-intellectual part of her brain. How cute of herself.
Princess deigned to not notice the stalks of pain taking root in each of her bare ankles. Her cigarette hit the grass in between steps of her rushing stride and was crushed underfoot- she ignored the sudden searing burn between her toes. She virtually tumbled to the side of the waterlogged pile of rags one could call a human if charitable and blind at once. Coffin repose shape of awkwardly skin tight blue and white. Princess wasn't sure what to do. Not to move the body, she was sure of that and about nothing else.
She could hear bubbling and sputtering, though.
"She's still breathing!"
she had no time to think, dammit
Jessica the superficially attractive socialite. Crude address, but Princess could hardly come up with better as she started to run to the rapidly collapsing- no, no, make that collapsed in the present tense, body. Was this in character or out of character, that she was the first to respond? In theory Princess the superficially nice thespian was supposedly too double dipped into party size tubs of denial and naivety to pick the useful options between fight flight and freeze?
Hardly mattered. Princess was a marionette being tugged along by some sub-intellectual part of her brain. How cute of herself.
Princess deigned to not notice the stalks of pain taking root in each of her bare ankles. Her cigarette hit the grass in between steps of her rushing stride and was crushed underfoot- she ignored the sudden searing burn between her toes. She virtually tumbled to the side of the waterlogged pile of rags one could call a human if charitable and blind at once. Coffin repose shape of awkwardly skin tight blue and white. Princess wasn't sure what to do. Not to move the body, she was sure of that and about nothing else.
She could hear bubbling and sputtering, though.
"She's still breathing!"
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Claudeson stayed silent as the group debated their situation. What possible motivation could these monsters have for kidnapping them, for doing this over and over, causing havoc all over the United States and the world? They were agents of chaos, serving Satan as their master. That much was clear to him. But at this particular juncture, they were all -
He blinked.
Was that?
Claudeson rubbed his eyes, but Princess, in her bare feet and her own sense of shock, beat him to it. It was a classmate. Shambling out of the woods. His mouth falling open, he identified her as Jessica Rennes.
Quickly crossing himself, Claudeson rushed over behind Princess, slinging his pack around him and dropping it on the ground beside them as he knelt down. Quickly taking out the first aid kit, he hesitated. Jessica didn't look overly damaged aside from being waterlogged and a bit battered, so he wasn't sure what to do. But where did she come from?
Claudeson looked up at the waterfall, somewhat in the distance but still close enough that the din was vaguely audible, looked at the woods adjacent to it, and wondered. A thought crossed his mind; it hadn't rained, so was it possible that-
"Goodness, you don't think...?"
He blinked.
Was that?
Claudeson rubbed his eyes, but Princess, in her bare feet and her own sense of shock, beat him to it. It was a classmate. Shambling out of the woods. His mouth falling open, he identified her as Jessica Rennes.
Quickly crossing himself, Claudeson rushed over behind Princess, slinging his pack around him and dropping it on the ground beside them as he knelt down. Quickly taking out the first aid kit, he hesitated. Jessica didn't look overly damaged aside from being waterlogged and a bit battered, so he wasn't sure what to do. But where did she come from?
Claudeson looked up at the waterfall, somewhat in the distance but still close enough that the din was vaguely audible, looked at the woods adjacent to it, and wondered. A thought crossed his mind; it hadn't rained, so was it possible that-
"Goodness, you don't think...?"
Camille had agreed to the plan. Good. Good. That was good.
Shoeless girl said it sounded too good to be true. Shoeless girl was an idiot, so it checked out. Some people seemed to have this idea in their heads that something being incredibly obvious meant it had to be incorrect, and Val just wanted to punch those people in the nose and tell them to get over themselves.
A girl wandered out of the woods looking like she'd been in a car wreck. One of the Rennes twins. Val saw the shoeless girl step on a cigarette as she ran to Rennes. She momentarily held a feeling of grim satisfaction.
She walked, slowly, to the Rennes girl. The girl was covered in fresh bruises, bleeding heavily from the nose. Shoeless girl said she was breathing. Again, Val was reminded of a car crash. She was reminded of Aleks.
No. No. She couldn't think about that right now. For the Rennes girl's sake. For Aleks's sake.
"Mmmm - her nose - check for head trauma; a skull fracture." She realized nobody knew how to do that.
One time, she'd been watching this veterinarian show on Nat Geo. There was this dog that'd been in a car accident. Blood from the nose. Skull fractured.
"Oh, uh, shoot, okay - uh, when she breathes, check if any part of her head, uh, kind of..." She made a face like she was blowing up a balloon and made a head-explodey gesture. Her stomach churned. " - if it inflates when she breathes."
Shoeless girl said it sounded too good to be true. Shoeless girl was an idiot, so it checked out. Some people seemed to have this idea in their heads that something being incredibly obvious meant it had to be incorrect, and Val just wanted to punch those people in the nose and tell them to get over themselves.
A girl wandered out of the woods looking like she'd been in a car wreck. One of the Rennes twins. Val saw the shoeless girl step on a cigarette as she ran to Rennes. She momentarily held a feeling of grim satisfaction.
She walked, slowly, to the Rennes girl. The girl was covered in fresh bruises, bleeding heavily from the nose. Shoeless girl said she was breathing. Again, Val was reminded of a car crash. She was reminded of Aleks.
No. No. She couldn't think about that right now. For the Rennes girl's sake. For Aleks's sake.
"Mmmm - her nose - check for head trauma; a skull fracture." She realized nobody knew how to do that.
One time, she'd been watching this veterinarian show on Nat Geo. There was this dog that'd been in a car accident. Blood from the nose. Skull fractured.
"Oh, uh, shoot, okay - uh, when she breathes, check if any part of her head, uh, kind of..." She made a face like she was blowing up a balloon and made a head-explodey gesture. Her stomach churned. " - if it inflates when she breathes."
destroy the UN08/03/2019
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.