((O22 Fabiano Vecoli: Start))
As far as he knew it, Fabiano had never left Malta in his entire life.
This was not the result of a lack in opportunities. There had been quite some times he could have accompanied his mother on a trip to get some photos from the neighboring countries. But he had preferred to stay home. Malta had given him a lot he had needed in his life, and what he knew about the outside, non-Malta world didn't motivate him to go sightseeing in another country.
Maybe that was the reason why his first thought after awakening was "This is not Malta."
There was no specific reason to think this; the old room he awoke in could be in any ruin anywhere in the world. But the place full of cobwebs and dusty furniture gave off a feeling of strangeness that made Fabiano's skin crawl. Or maybe it was the dust on the bed he lay on making him almost cough.
However, all of this was momentarily reduced to the second row of his mind when the memories of the "briefing" came flooding into his still foggy mind.
He remembered the dark room with the other teenagers.
The guy who got shot for saying the stuff Fabiano would have said a few seconds later.
The man named Jack.
The talk about daypacks and random weapons.
The collars and how the mannequin blew up. Almost automatically, his hand raised to his neck and found some cold steel. He didn't dare to try and pull on it.
And lastly, the thing these people wanted him and the others to do.
Killing each other.
"Fucking outsiders!" He almost spat out while punching the bedsheets in frustration. He was sure that none of his Maltese people would ever come up with something so sick and then have the audacity to go trough with it. It had to be the work of some Americans. Or Germans. Or Brits. Whatever, for Fabiano, outsiders where outsiders, no matter how they called their countries.
It was then that he spotted a backpack sitting at the foot end of the bed. It had "O22" written over it and sticked out in the room for not looking twenty years old.
Hesitantly, Fabiano stood up and made his way to inspect what appeared to be his daypack. The first thing that rolled out of it once he zipped it open was one of six cylinders of the colors red, green, yellow, blue, black and white. They were marked as "AX-60".
Fabiano recognized these as a common type of smoke bomb. His mother sometimes used them to make artistic photos. He also knew they were sometimes used for movies. His knowledge was sparse, but he knew they weren't lethal unless you used them in a small room, where the smoke would push out all the air, resulting in everyone not fast enough to leave the room suffocating.
Why was he thinking about such stuff?
Fabiano shook his head. The talks about killing each other and only one person being allowed to survive - and find out what the other died for in the first place - must have getting him more shaken up than he wanted to admit. He put the six smoke bombs on the bed and focussed on the rest of the daypack.
Some food.
A flashlight. He turned it on for a second to see if it worked, which it did.
A compass.
A map of an island. Presumably the island he was on. There was even a place named "The Empty Farmhouse", which might be his current position. He put the map into the pocket of his T-Shirt.
And lastly a first-aid-kit. His knowledge about medicine was confined to treat the small bruises and scrapes he sometimes got while climbing, but that was it. However, the most interesting component of the kit was a small lighter. He would need this one to set off the smoke bombs, so he took it out and stuffed it into the backpocket of his jeans before putting the rest of his possessions back into the backpack. Then he put the backpack on his back, ready to roll out and-
That was the moment Fabiano realized he had no clue what to do now.
Obviously, he had no desire to just go and kill other people like it was nothing. But the man had been clear: if no one died for one day, they would all be history. That was one of the last things he had said before talking about announcements and then saying something about countries.
Something about countries?
A disturbing realization hit Fabiano.
The other abducted teenagers weren't from Malta! They were outsiders, just like the abducters!
In his eyes, this made the situation a lot more dangerous. If it were all Maltese like him, he was sure they could have banded together. Found a way to survive this horrible situation. Or at least spit Jack in his face.
But outsiders were unpredictable. The fact that outsiders had been the ones to initiate this whole situation showed just how disturbing outsiders could be. There was no doubt a good number of the captured would happily start the slaughter.
With that, his next moves were clear. He needed a weapon. The smoke bombs would be good for a clean getaway, but for all he knew others could have gotten rocket launchers. The room he was in had nothing usefull. The furniture was made out of decade-old wood that would probably break even before the first hit. He needed to find something better, and he needed to find it fast. Judging from the number on his backpack, there were at least twenty-one other people on the island. For Fabiano's taste, that were twenty-one too many.
Snapping back to reality, he decided to take a look out of the only window in the room. This led to two new revelations:
1) His room was on the second floor.
2) To the right there was some sort of cave-entrance, barely visible on the horizon. To the left there was a long fence as far as he could see. In order to reach any of these two places, Fabiano would have to cross a wide open field, where he would be easily picked of by any outsider with a sniper rifle.
Yeah, hard pass on that direction.
He took out the map again. In the direction he couldn't see right now was a small forest. Further north was a place called "The Temperate Rainforest". And to the northern end of the island was another place named "The Mysterious Circle" practically begging to be checked out. It even had "mysterious" in the name to show that it was important.
Pretty sure some others would instantly want to see what so special about this place was. So hard pass as well, since Fabiano had no desire to run into people right now.
That left only the east: A long beach, without any cover, just like the open field.
Crap. Every choice was a bad one.
And to top it all of, he felt no desire to stay in this ruin that could fall on his head every second. Also he wouldn't find a weapon by not looking at different places.
With a sigh, he put the map back into his pocket. "Let's just get out of this place, I guess." He spoke to himself. Hearing his own voice gave him a slightly soothing feeling of familiarity.
And then he was on his way to find the stairs.
Welcome to the Outside World
Thanks, Leander!
Moderator: SOTF International Staff
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DerArknight
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Carrion Queen
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((Empieza Soraya))
Algunas veces, creo que estoy alerta cuando estoy sueñando. Otros veces, creo que estoy sueñando cuando estoy despabliado.
Creo que no importa, pues.
En los dos, siempre estoy tratando, estoy trabajando. Estroy esperando de descubrir algo verdad sobre yo mismo. Aprender la poder de milagres.
Cuando despierto en un momento, creo que no va a estar un gran difererencia entre eso y cuando sueño.
Antes de que despierto, quiero hablar (“hablar,” sabes que quero decir. No quiero enlillarme aquí) sobre los palabras de idioma y lenguaje.
Mismo intención, pero no son mismisimo. Mismisimosito. Mismismismismismisitoittito—
Perdón. En serio.
Idioma y lenguaje.
La origen de la palabra “idioma” proviene de latín y ese del griego de idios que significa “propia.” Pero no es propia de ti, pero proia de todo de un gente. Pero, tambien de gente que no son de este idioma.
La origen de lenguaje es obvio. Y eso es realmente tuyo y la que aprenden primero. Entonces considerlo la palabra mejor.
Si he neccesito escoger un palabra por mi vida, en general, creo que la más apropriado sería “enguacar.”
Si sabias que significolo, haceria perfecto sentido.
Si he neccesito escoger un palabra por que viene, la más apropriado seria….
Coger. Estoy cogí.
(Yo se que los ultimos oraciones fue dificil en su traducor, lo siento.)
Ah, una cosa más --
Ah. Creo que oi algo. Hay alguien caminando como están enojado arriba...
Soraya opened her eyes and blinked. She was wrapped in some kind of plastic. She looked around. It was an old, dirty kitchen. Above, footsteps.
“¿Hola?”
Crinkle. Crinkle.
Algunas veces, creo que estoy alerta cuando estoy sueñando. Otros veces, creo que estoy sueñando cuando estoy despabliado.
Creo que no importa, pues.
En los dos, siempre estoy tratando, estoy trabajando. Estroy esperando de descubrir algo verdad sobre yo mismo. Aprender la poder de milagres.
Cuando despierto en un momento, creo que no va a estar un gran difererencia entre eso y cuando sueño.
Antes de que despierto, quiero hablar (“hablar,” sabes que quero decir. No quiero enlillarme aquí) sobre los palabras de idioma y lenguaje.
Mismo intención, pero no son mismisimo. Mismisimosito. Mismismismismismisitoittito—
Perdón. En serio.
Idioma y lenguaje.
La origen de la palabra “idioma” proviene de latín y ese del griego de idios que significa “propia.” Pero no es propia de ti, pero proia de todo de un gente. Pero, tambien de gente que no son de este idioma.
La origen de lenguaje es obvio. Y eso es realmente tuyo y la que aprenden primero. Entonces considerlo la palabra mejor.
Si he neccesito escoger un palabra por mi vida, en general, creo que la más apropriado sería “enguacar.”
Si sabias que significolo, haceria perfecto sentido.
Si he neccesito escoger un palabra por que viene, la más apropriado seria….
Coger. Estoy cogí.
(Yo se que los ultimos oraciones fue dificil en su traducor, lo siento.)
Ah, una cosa más --
Ah. Creo que oi algo. Hay alguien caminando como están enojado arriba...
Soraya opened her eyes and blinked. She was wrapped in some kind of plastic. She looked around. It was an old, dirty kitchen. Above, footsteps.
“¿Hola?”
Crinkle. Crinkle.
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DerArknight
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Stepping out of the bedroom, Fabiano found himself in a similarly dusty hallway. Not far away was a set of stairs, leading into the entrance hall of the house. It reminded him a little of the house in the first Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Only with more decay and less chainsaw-wielding cannibals.
And just like in the bedroom, there was no good weapon in sight. Not that he had expected the abducters to scatter useful stuff around. It would defeat the point of handing out the daypacks, after all. Now that he thought about it, the whole island had probably been cleaned off of everything good apart from the stuff the daypacks contained. This way, they would be forced to interact in order to get anything.
None of these made him happier as he descended the stairs.
It was around the halfway-mark that he stepped on a especially loose board. The stairwell gave a creaking noise that sounded far too loud in his ears.
"Shit." He spoke out. As with the things he had said before, his language of choice was english. While he preferred Maltese, his bi-lingual education and the fact that his plans to study cinematography meant he could speak it fluently, so he used it just as often as his native tongue.
A few seconds later, another voice oculd be heard. Not from him, but from somewhere on the first floor.
“¿Hola?”
Now he had a real reason to curse. But he didn't. Instead, he resumed his descend down the stairs. A few seconds later, he stood in the first floor.
The noises of another person were unavoidable. From his position, Fabiano could see that it came from what appeared to be the kitchen of the house. He was unsure how to proceed. Should he just exit trough the main entrance? Or confront the other person?
While he would have liked to do the former, he realized that the latter was probably smarter. After all, it was still the beginning of this whole "game". Now was the time when some of the others might not have coped with the situation, making them more vulnerable. Or easier to trick. Or to run away from. Whatever, all these things would get harder once some time passed.
If he assumed that the whole affair would work out like Jack had told them, Fabiano would have to make contact with other people at some point. Even if he managed to hide until only two people were left, he would have to confront the other survivor. And if he wasted his time hiding while his opponent was more active, the other survivor would probably have some very strong weapons while Fabiano was stuck with what he had now. It would be like avoiding all encounters in an RPG and then trying to defeat the boss without leveling up.
With this in mind, Fabiano settled on taking a short peak at whoever was in the kitchen. If they looked to be still half-sleeping, he could grab their daypack and run. If they looked like a threat, he could just run without even entering the room.
And if they were not a threat, but appeared easy to fool, he might get an expandable meat shield out of the encounter.
Whit this, he turned around the corner leading into the kitchen.
A girl was coated with some transparent plastic. A bag with the markings "O23" was next to her.
She spotted him instantly.
"Hello," Fabiano spoke. And then, after a short moment of consideration: "My name is Adrian Calleia. Nice to meet you."
Of course he was not so foolish to give his real name to a stranger. Also there was nothing even remotely "nice" about their situation. But he knew he wasn't the most trustworthy-looking guy with the naturally harsh look in his eyes, so he had to make up for that somehow.
And just like in the bedroom, there was no good weapon in sight. Not that he had expected the abducters to scatter useful stuff around. It would defeat the point of handing out the daypacks, after all. Now that he thought about it, the whole island had probably been cleaned off of everything good apart from the stuff the daypacks contained. This way, they would be forced to interact in order to get anything.
None of these made him happier as he descended the stairs.
It was around the halfway-mark that he stepped on a especially loose board. The stairwell gave a creaking noise that sounded far too loud in his ears.
"Shit." He spoke out. As with the things he had said before, his language of choice was english. While he preferred Maltese, his bi-lingual education and the fact that his plans to study cinematography meant he could speak it fluently, so he used it just as often as his native tongue.
A few seconds later, another voice oculd be heard. Not from him, but from somewhere on the first floor.
“¿Hola?”
Now he had a real reason to curse. But he didn't. Instead, he resumed his descend down the stairs. A few seconds later, he stood in the first floor.
The noises of another person were unavoidable. From his position, Fabiano could see that it came from what appeared to be the kitchen of the house. He was unsure how to proceed. Should he just exit trough the main entrance? Or confront the other person?
While he would have liked to do the former, he realized that the latter was probably smarter. After all, it was still the beginning of this whole "game". Now was the time when some of the others might not have coped with the situation, making them more vulnerable. Or easier to trick. Or to run away from. Whatever, all these things would get harder once some time passed.
If he assumed that the whole affair would work out like Jack had told them, Fabiano would have to make contact with other people at some point. Even if he managed to hide until only two people were left, he would have to confront the other survivor. And if he wasted his time hiding while his opponent was more active, the other survivor would probably have some very strong weapons while Fabiano was stuck with what he had now. It would be like avoiding all encounters in an RPG and then trying to defeat the boss without leveling up.
With this in mind, Fabiano settled on taking a short peak at whoever was in the kitchen. If they looked to be still half-sleeping, he could grab their daypack and run. If they looked like a threat, he could just run without even entering the room.
And if they were not a threat, but appeared easy to fool, he might get an expandable meat shield out of the encounter.
Whit this, he turned around the corner leading into the kitchen.
A girl was coated with some transparent plastic. A bag with the markings "O23" was next to her.
She spotted him instantly.
"Hello," Fabiano spoke. And then, after a short moment of consideration: "My name is Adrian Calleia. Nice to meet you."
Of course he was not so foolish to give his real name to a stranger. Also there was nothing even remotely "nice" about their situation. But he knew he wasn't the most trustworthy-looking guy with the naturally harsh look in his eyes, so he had to make up for that somehow.
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Carrion Queen
- Posts: 427
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 6:35 am
¿Qué en el entero demonios?
Entre un persona nuevo. Pero no parce tan amigable.
She raised an eyebrow.
Supongo que el no es, como, feisimo o nada.
Y ahora habla, diciendo su nombre, si fue su nombre.
¿Quieres escuchar un chiste?
¿A dónde fue lost pulgos cuando mueren?
¿Eh?
Al pulgotorio, por supesto.
De una pulga a otro, supongo que debo decir algo.
“He—hello.”
Quizás debo hablar un poco menos en inglés que puedo. El mejor tiempo para aprender sobre alguien es cuando el no piensa que puedes entender. No trabajas con extranjeros por años sin aprendiendo ese lección. Un poco de encimón, encimarse (jejej).
Soraya moved the plastic so that she could stand. She stumbled, then stood. Soraya pushed her hands down her dress to flatten it and smooth down the wrinkles.
"My... name Soraya," she responded.
She frowned.
"Not nice place, yes. You nice, yes?"
She wrapped her arms around herself.
"Scare."
She pointed at him.
"Where of?"
Entre un persona nuevo. Pero no parce tan amigable.
She raised an eyebrow.
Supongo que el no es, como, feisimo o nada.
Y ahora habla, diciendo su nombre, si fue su nombre.
¿Quieres escuchar un chiste?
¿A dónde fue lost pulgos cuando mueren?
¿Eh?
Al pulgotorio, por supesto.
De una pulga a otro, supongo que debo decir algo.
“He—hello.”
Quizás debo hablar un poco menos en inglés que puedo. El mejor tiempo para aprender sobre alguien es cuando el no piensa que puedes entender. No trabajas con extranjeros por años sin aprendiendo ese lección. Un poco de encimón, encimarse (jejej).
Soraya moved the plastic so that she could stand. She stumbled, then stood. Soraya pushed her hands down her dress to flatten it and smooth down the wrinkles.
"My... name Soraya," she responded.
She frowned.
"Not nice place, yes. You nice, yes?"
She wrapped her arms around herself.
"Scare."
She pointed at him.
"Where of?"
Stark was the heaviness of disappointment, dragging on the extra frown muscles in her jaw. Up until now, she guessed, she hadn't thought an evil such as this could actually exist. Jen had stayed quiet and attentive. Fighting down the nausea when she'd translated the exploding mannequin into what a real body might have looked like in the aftermath, but it hadn't outwardly shown.
"Good luck, and make your country proud."
Pride in moderation could be a boon, and no more.
O11- her bequeathed name now, seemed like something out of a movie- heard the whispers of speech upstairs. Her eyes adjusted to the dark only with difficulty, briefly seeing threats in the dark shapes surrounding her before their definition sharpened and she was being menaced by mere furnishings. It reminded her of home- thrifty pieces from another era, perhaps hand-me-downs. Comfortable to rest in, but now wasn't the time.
Jen had a threat of her own. She could only guess what she had to do with a gun because she'd never even thought of holding one in her life until one had ended up in her hand. It didn't seem safe to even hold it, not for herself, and certainly not for others. She could have slung it over her back, but she couldn't quite figure out how one actually did that outside of books. It was heavy enough that she wanted to leave it behind, and heavier still that she couldn't really convince herself that was a real option.
She only peeked her head out of the corner leading into the basement, the implement of war she'd been given still resting on the stone floor a flight of stairs below and out of reach. She realized, with two eyes cautiously scanning faces and doors and other unfamiliar shapes, that the voices had been those of real people and not ghosts. She stepped out more of herself, hands raised, palms empty, theoretically calm smile. Neither the boy nor the girl looked much like herself. Jen had the vaguest inkling she might be the only girl from her island, or perhaps even from her quadrant of the globe.
It'd be better that way, anyways. If she was the only one.
"Um." Her voice caught in her throat, the words were a bit sluggish. She was essentially fluent in English this late into her life, but moments like this conspired to remind her that it was still probably a work in progress. One that she'd never quite complete with her own two hands.
"Jen." She thought she'd heard a name. First and last? "Tuiqamea." Her last name probably betrayed her heritage more than her accent did.
"You did not learn much English?" An apologetic smile at the girl who was her height sister. She knew it was hard.
She also knew something didn't quite feel right. Jen remembered her own speech patterns from when she'd been struggling with ESL and something didn't quite strike her as authentic about the inflection. Jen knew better than to presume her biases made any sense, however. Her thoughts weren't vocalized, not in word, not in body.
"I'm from Fiji. Lived in America too."
"Good luck, and make your country proud."
Pride in moderation could be a boon, and no more.
O11- her bequeathed name now, seemed like something out of a movie- heard the whispers of speech upstairs. Her eyes adjusted to the dark only with difficulty, briefly seeing threats in the dark shapes surrounding her before their definition sharpened and she was being menaced by mere furnishings. It reminded her of home- thrifty pieces from another era, perhaps hand-me-downs. Comfortable to rest in, but now wasn't the time.
Jen had a threat of her own. She could only guess what she had to do with a gun because she'd never even thought of holding one in her life until one had ended up in her hand. It didn't seem safe to even hold it, not for herself, and certainly not for others. She could have slung it over her back, but she couldn't quite figure out how one actually did that outside of books. It was heavy enough that she wanted to leave it behind, and heavier still that she couldn't really convince herself that was a real option.
She only peeked her head out of the corner leading into the basement, the implement of war she'd been given still resting on the stone floor a flight of stairs below and out of reach. She realized, with two eyes cautiously scanning faces and doors and other unfamiliar shapes, that the voices had been those of real people and not ghosts. She stepped out more of herself, hands raised, palms empty, theoretically calm smile. Neither the boy nor the girl looked much like herself. Jen had the vaguest inkling she might be the only girl from her island, or perhaps even from her quadrant of the globe.
It'd be better that way, anyways. If she was the only one.
"Um." Her voice caught in her throat, the words were a bit sluggish. She was essentially fluent in English this late into her life, but moments like this conspired to remind her that it was still probably a work in progress. One that she'd never quite complete with her own two hands.
"Jen." She thought she'd heard a name. First and last? "Tuiqamea." Her last name probably betrayed her heritage more than her accent did.
"You did not learn much English?" An apologetic smile at the girl who was her height sister. She knew it was hard.
She also knew something didn't quite feel right. Jen remembered her own speech patterns from when she'd been struggling with ESL and something didn't quite strike her as authentic about the inflection. Jen knew better than to presume her biases made any sense, however. Her thoughts weren't vocalized, not in word, not in body.
"I'm from Fiji. Lived in America too."
Upcoming:
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
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DerArknight
- Posts: 684
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"I am from Malta." Fabiano answered to Soraya's question.
While he tried his best to hide it, her broken english irritated him. It reminded Fabiano of several tourists from non-english-speaking countries. Interacting with these people was always hard due to them not getting half the things you wanted to tell them. Why did they bother to visit a country when they were lacking the abilities to communicate properly? Couldn't they realize they just made things more complicated for everyone?
However, none of that mattered right now. Because before Fabiano could speak further, a third person made their presence known. It was a girl without any weapon or daypack. Suspicious.
The newcomer introduced herself as Jen Tuiqamea before making a comment about Soraya's english and saying she was from Fiji. Fiji was just another place Fabiano knew the name of, but wouldn't be able to point at on a map. Probably somewhere in africa, judging from her skin color. He didn't care.
For a few seconds, an awkward silence reigned. This was not good. Fabiano took the initiative.
"Well, now that we are done with introductions, I would like to confirm something: you both remember the briefing, right?
"Did you notice anything? Like is Jack similar to someone you know or have heard about? Also, any clue on who he is working for?"
Of course, he doubted the two knew more than he did. He didn't even want to learn more about their abducters right now. He wanted to learn more about them. With a small conversation, he hoped to get a better feeling on how easy it would be to manipulate them. Or how dangerous they were. Or if they were so useless that he was better off looking for other meat shields. From what he saw so far, none of them had a weapon good enough to consider a robbery; and his daypack was still full. So he saw no reason to attack right now.
While he tried his best to hide it, her broken english irritated him. It reminded Fabiano of several tourists from non-english-speaking countries. Interacting with these people was always hard due to them not getting half the things you wanted to tell them. Why did they bother to visit a country when they were lacking the abilities to communicate properly? Couldn't they realize they just made things more complicated for everyone?
However, none of that mattered right now. Because before Fabiano could speak further, a third person made their presence known. It was a girl without any weapon or daypack. Suspicious.
The newcomer introduced herself as Jen Tuiqamea before making a comment about Soraya's english and saying she was from Fiji. Fiji was just another place Fabiano knew the name of, but wouldn't be able to point at on a map. Probably somewhere in africa, judging from her skin color. He didn't care.
For a few seconds, an awkward silence reigned. This was not good. Fabiano took the initiative.
"Well, now that we are done with introductions, I would like to confirm something: you both remember the briefing, right?
"Did you notice anything? Like is Jack similar to someone you know or have heard about? Also, any clue on who he is working for?"
Of course, he doubted the two knew more than he did. He didn't even want to learn more about their abducters right now. He wanted to learn more about them. With a small conversation, he hoped to get a better feeling on how easy it would be to manipulate them. Or how dangerous they were. Or if they were so useless that he was better off looking for other meat shields. From what he saw so far, none of them had a weapon good enough to consider a robbery; and his daypack was still full. So he saw no reason to attack right now.
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Carrion Queen
- Posts: 427
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 6:35 am
Soraya looked back at the plastic she’d woken up in. Under it there was a bag. She pulled the layers of plastic off until she could reach the backpack.
“Not learn much English,” she repeated after Jen, nodding.
“Aaah America! Hollywood, New York,” she said, miming the operating of a film camera. “I like the movies!” She nodded vigorously.
“So fetch!” she imitated. "Napoleon Dynamite!"
“Guatemala,” she said, pointing to herself. Then Adrian began asking questions.
¡Híjole! El fue tan tonto que hizo llorar a una cebolla.
Si, claro, por supuesto. Yo se todo sobre que esta pasando. Este Jack me regaló un libro que se llama “Todo mis planes obscuros,” y no recuerdé hasta este momento exacto. Por eso estoy jingado estancado contigo aquí. Por no mencionar que él no toma acuenta de que Soraya, yo, “no pudía hablar mucho inglés.”
Que cool. Mucho cool.
Soraya looked at Adrian blankly. She shook her head.
“Jack…. No…”
Que hicíera Rubí, la hero de una de su favorita novelas? Pues, Rubí fue cogiona y hicíera coger qualquier hombre tuvó una casa con pisina. Ella siempre quiere eso pisina…
En este caso, que significa "la pisina?" Algiuen que tiene arma.
She reached into the bag and pulled out a cylinder with a nozzle.
“Not learn much English,” she repeated after Jen, nodding.
“Aaah America! Hollywood, New York,” she said, miming the operating of a film camera. “I like the movies!” She nodded vigorously.
“So fetch!” she imitated. "Napoleon Dynamite!"
“Guatemala,” she said, pointing to herself. Then Adrian began asking questions.
¡Híjole! El fue tan tonto que hizo llorar a una cebolla.
Si, claro, por supuesto. Yo se todo sobre que esta pasando. Este Jack me regaló un libro que se llama “Todo mis planes obscuros,” y no recuerdé hasta este momento exacto. Por eso estoy jingado estancado contigo aquí. Por no mencionar que él no toma acuenta de que Soraya, yo, “no pudía hablar mucho inglés.”
Que cool. Mucho cool.
Soraya looked at Adrian blankly. She shook her head.
“Jack…. No…”
Que hicíera Rubí, la hero de una de su favorita novelas? Pues, Rubí fue cogiona y hicíera coger qualquier hombre tuvó una casa con pisina. Ella siempre quiere eso pisina…
En este caso, que significa "la pisina?" Algiuen que tiene arma.
She reached into the bag and pulled out a cylinder with a nozzle.
"The country... south, east of Mexico right? Somewhere in that area?"
What was Napoleon Dynamite? Another noun Jen couldn't quite place on a map.
Jen didn't mind silence, and hadn't been ready to break it before Adrian- they were all too young, too lacking in wear and tear on the face to use their last names at each other, and that was another stark inhumanity about their situation- took it upon himself.
Her expression was as blank as the Latina girls'. It was an easier conversation to have than one about survival and gunmanship, which was the conversation Jen was sure had to be had at some point but she wasn't quite sure if it'd go over as easy as small talk about who was trying to apparently get them all killed.
It didn't strike her as a practical topic, either way. Jen of course didn't parlay her doubts into the shape of her skin. She nodded thoughtfully, as if she had any clue what the answer to Adrian's question was.
"It seems like it would be very obscure," and her word choice was less deliberate than it was just outright slow, Jen's thoughts moving at the speed she usually read, one word at a time. "Terrorists kidnap for ransoms or for religion? This doesn't seem to fit either case."
She glanced at the device the other girl had produced from her bag.
"A bicycle pump? Fetch."
She knew that was a 90s joke of some sort, but she wasn't sure how you were supposed to specifically say it to get the joke across so she settled for imitating Soraya's accent. Leave it to the girl with allegedly bad English to have the better grasp of Americana pop culture references.
What was Napoleon Dynamite? Another noun Jen couldn't quite place on a map.
Jen didn't mind silence, and hadn't been ready to break it before Adrian- they were all too young, too lacking in wear and tear on the face to use their last names at each other, and that was another stark inhumanity about their situation- took it upon himself.
Her expression was as blank as the Latina girls'. It was an easier conversation to have than one about survival and gunmanship, which was the conversation Jen was sure had to be had at some point but she wasn't quite sure if it'd go over as easy as small talk about who was trying to apparently get them all killed.
It didn't strike her as a practical topic, either way. Jen of course didn't parlay her doubts into the shape of her skin. She nodded thoughtfully, as if she had any clue what the answer to Adrian's question was.
"It seems like it would be very obscure," and her word choice was less deliberate than it was just outright slow, Jen's thoughts moving at the speed she usually read, one word at a time. "Terrorists kidnap for ransoms or for religion? This doesn't seem to fit either case."
She glanced at the device the other girl had produced from her bag.
"A bicycle pump? Fetch."
She knew that was a 90s joke of some sort, but she wasn't sure how you were supposed to specifically say it to get the joke across so she settled for imitating Soraya's accent. Leave it to the girl with allegedly bad English to have the better grasp of Americana pop culture references.
Upcoming:
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
-
DerArknight
- Posts: 684
- Joined: Thu Feb 18, 2021 9:47 pm
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
The answers weren't very helpful, but Fabiano hadn't expected them to. However, they also told him nothing about his new companion. Instead Soraya began to rummage in her backpack. Fabiano readied himself to jump her if she brought out a gun, but it was just an air-pump.
It was then that he spotted a few more details about the plastic Soraya was wrapped in. He stepped closer.
"I think this is one of those balls you can use to walk on water. Not sure what the name is." He spoke, unsure how much Soraya would understand.
How much she would understand?
Something very important dawned on him. She might have seen the boy getting shot in the briefing, but that didn't mean she had been able to comprehend everything Jack told them. No wonder Soraya was happily making dumb Hollywood jokes.
This was important. If there were people who didn't knew they were supposed to kill each other, the ones who did could make use of this in many ways.
"Hey, Soraya." He adressed her. "Did you fully understand the briefing? Like, do you know what we are supposed to do here?"
While asking this question, Fabiano threw an eye at Jen. She was another factor he had to consider in what to do about Soraya and the language-barrier.
It was then that he spotted a few more details about the plastic Soraya was wrapped in. He stepped closer.
"I think this is one of those balls you can use to walk on water. Not sure what the name is." He spoke, unsure how much Soraya would understand.
How much she would understand?
Something very important dawned on him. She might have seen the boy getting shot in the briefing, but that didn't mean she had been able to comprehend everything Jack told them. No wonder Soraya was happily making dumb Hollywood jokes.
This was important. If there were people who didn't knew they were supposed to kill each other, the ones who did could make use of this in many ways.
"Hey, Soraya." He adressed her. "Did you fully understand the briefing? Like, do you know what we are supposed to do here?"
While asking this question, Fabiano threw an eye at Jen. She was another factor he had to consider in what to do about Soraya and the language-barrier.
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Carrion Queen
- Posts: 427
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 6:35 am
"Si, debajo México," Soraya intoned flatly, pointing down.
En el caso de que un turista en su trabajo le preguntara de dónde era originalmente, la probabilidad de que la gente supiera dónde estaba su país de origen no fue tan bueno (a pesar de que eran vecinas). Entonces, Soraya estaba acostumbrada a describir la ubicación de su país perdido en esta manera.
Adrian touched the plastic on the ground. Soraya heard Jen note that she held a bicycle pump and looked at the plastic heap on the ground. She bent down and reached back into her assigned bag until she found a pamphlet. She inspected it. The cover had a photograph of someone walking inside a plastic bubble.
Soraya looked at the cover of the pamphlet. She turned it towards Jen and then opened it.
Next to the first instruction was a picture of the cylinder Soraya had already removed from the bag.
"Que demonios..." she grumbled.
Adrian se preguntó que si ella entendó que el hombre estaba deciendo sobre que neccesitan hacer en este juego de sangre.
Supongo que diré que sí. No necesito que ese chico se sienta mal por mí y se queda. Creo que puedo encontrar a alguien mejor que tenga armas y que también tenga mejores vibes. Tampoco sé si todo esto es de verdad. ¿Un juego de matando con gente de todo el mundo? ¿Y porqué? ¿Con qué razón? Quizás sea un tipo de experimento social. Solo digo, si los hombres en negro quieren que matemos, ninguno de los tres aquí tiene nada con que podemos matar con que yo pueda ver. ¿Quien esta en cargo de un juego de matando y da un... zorb? No lo tiene sentido.
Soraya hesitated and nodded twice. She made her hand into the shape of a gun and mimicked shooting, adding "pew."
"Maybe game... not real?"
En el caso de que un turista en su trabajo le preguntara de dónde era originalmente, la probabilidad de que la gente supiera dónde estaba su país de origen no fue tan bueno (a pesar de que eran vecinas). Entonces, Soraya estaba acostumbrada a describir la ubicación de su país perdido en esta manera.
Adrian touched the plastic on the ground. Soraya heard Jen note that she held a bicycle pump and looked at the plastic heap on the ground. She bent down and reached back into her assigned bag until she found a pamphlet. She inspected it. The cover had a photograph of someone walking inside a plastic bubble.
Keep Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'*
Having a ball with your zorb!
*not affiliated with Limp Bizkit
Having a ball with your zorb!
*not affiliated with Limp Bizkit
Soraya looked at the cover of the pamphlet. She turned it towards Jen and then opened it.
From the makers of the Skip-It: the exercise that chafes, and the Perfection Board Game: the silent but deadly killer, comes the deluxe ZORB.
Step 1: Inflate your ZORB. This is a common mistake people make. Trying to enjoy the uninflated ZORB can result in a less than optimal ZORBULAR experience as well as suffocation.
Step 1: Inflate your ZORB. This is a common mistake people make. Trying to enjoy the uninflated ZORB can result in a less than optimal ZORBULAR experience as well as suffocation.
Next to the first instruction was a picture of the cylinder Soraya had already removed from the bag.
"Que demonios..." she grumbled.
Adrian se preguntó que si ella entendó que el hombre estaba deciendo sobre que neccesitan hacer en este juego de sangre.
Supongo que diré que sí. No necesito que ese chico se sienta mal por mí y se queda. Creo que puedo encontrar a alguien mejor que tenga armas y que también tenga mejores vibes. Tampoco sé si todo esto es de verdad. ¿Un juego de matando con gente de todo el mundo? ¿Y porqué? ¿Con qué razón? Quizás sea un tipo de experimento social. Solo digo, si los hombres en negro quieren que matemos, ninguno de los tres aquí tiene nada con que podemos matar con que yo pueda ver. ¿Quien esta en cargo de un juego de matando y da un... zorb? No lo tiene sentido.
Soraya hesitated and nodded twice. She made her hand into the shape of a gun and mimicked shooting, adding "pew."
"Maybe game... not real?"
Debajo... Down, under, in context. It was a petty thing to reminisce on but Jen had always been a little sad she'd never had the chance to try learning another language. ESL hadn't been fun, but it had been satisfying.
It sounded like a question Soraya got a lot. Totally fair, and Jen probably shouldn't have asked? She'd dealt with the 'do you speak English' questions a bit too much at work. Jen wasn't about to say she really understood the other girl all that well, heart to heart, but if she had to guess Adrian LastName was probably ranking Soraya's capacity with at least a mild degree of unfairness.
Jen still wasn't convinced the other girl didn't know more than she was making apparent.
"I think she gets the idea of it," Jen smiled at the other two, in a placid manner. The eyes on top of her smiling face half misdirected by the back-cover of the pamphlet... did people unironically buy things like that? Seemed like one of those way too middle class things that existed just to burn a hole in a pocket, or however that particular idiom worked.
"Not real... No way. It seems like way too much work to be a prank."
Adrian had eyed her on that question as well. Jen raised her hands in a shrug- as far as she was concerned, realistically, she knew as little as Soraya did in the worst case scenario. But that was all of them, all the backs of heads like the two standing in front of her she'd put faces on, all the people she'd been sat behind in that auditorium, restrained, waiting to... die, it seemed.
Odd use of their time, she guessed.
"I think we should assume it's real. So now what?" Jen had a gun. She didn't know if it shot things. She didn't know if it was any good. She wasn't comfortable with those bits of knowledge: that much she definitively knew. "If anybody got a weapon and a willingness to play by the supposed rules... What if it's a test? To see if people will give in to their worst survival instinct."
It sounded like a question Soraya got a lot. Totally fair, and Jen probably shouldn't have asked? She'd dealt with the 'do you speak English' questions a bit too much at work. Jen wasn't about to say she really understood the other girl all that well, heart to heart, but if she had to guess Adrian LastName was probably ranking Soraya's capacity with at least a mild degree of unfairness.
Jen still wasn't convinced the other girl didn't know more than she was making apparent.
"I think she gets the idea of it," Jen smiled at the other two, in a placid manner. The eyes on top of her smiling face half misdirected by the back-cover of the pamphlet... did people unironically buy things like that? Seemed like one of those way too middle class things that existed just to burn a hole in a pocket, or however that particular idiom worked.
"Not real... No way. It seems like way too much work to be a prank."
Adrian had eyed her on that question as well. Jen raised her hands in a shrug- as far as she was concerned, realistically, she knew as little as Soraya did in the worst case scenario. But that was all of them, all the backs of heads like the two standing in front of her she'd put faces on, all the people she'd been sat behind in that auditorium, restrained, waiting to... die, it seemed.
Odd use of their time, she guessed.
"I think we should assume it's real. So now what?" Jen had a gun. She didn't know if it shot things. She didn't know if it was any good. She wasn't comfortable with those bits of knowledge: that much she definitively knew. "If anybody got a weapon and a willingness to play by the supposed rules... What if it's a test? To see if people will give in to their worst survival instinct."
Upcoming:
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
-
DerArknight
- Posts: 684
- Joined: Thu Feb 18, 2021 9:47 pm
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
For some reason, Fabiano found himself considering Jen's idea for a few moments. Could this really be a scientific experiment?
"... No, I don't think this is it." Fabiano answered finally.
"If they wanted to find out how humans change when their lives are on the line, they would just need to open a history book. There are countless cases of people doing awful things in order to survive or because they believed they could get away with it. Like the Donner party. Or unit 731. Or the Stanford Prison experiment.
"If Jack - or whoever he works for - has enough influence and money to create this situation here, they should also have enough resources to get much better data in less illegal ways. I doubt that a group of random people like us who doesn't even know one another would give them any data that they don't already have."
Suddenly, he realized he had let his guard down. Talking about inhuman experiments was probably not the best topic right now. If at all.
In an attempt to change the course of discussion, he turned to Soraya, who was still examining her inflatable ball. "So, what are you gonna do with this thing? Wanna go outside and blow it up?"
Without him tagging along for longer than necessary, of course. While the jury was still out on Jen, Soraya didn't seem to take the situation serious enough and her "weapon" was without any use. He figured it would be best to split off from her. But he had to make it seem natural. After all, if he abandoned her like a jerk and they met each other one day later, it could bite him in the ass.
"... No, I don't think this is it." Fabiano answered finally.
"If they wanted to find out how humans change when their lives are on the line, they would just need to open a history book. There are countless cases of people doing awful things in order to survive or because they believed they could get away with it. Like the Donner party. Or unit 731. Or the Stanford Prison experiment.
"If Jack - or whoever he works for - has enough influence and money to create this situation here, they should also have enough resources to get much better data in less illegal ways. I doubt that a group of random people like us who doesn't even know one another would give them any data that they don't already have."
Suddenly, he realized he had let his guard down. Talking about inhuman experiments was probably not the best topic right now. If at all.
In an attempt to change the course of discussion, he turned to Soraya, who was still examining her inflatable ball. "So, what are you gonna do with this thing? Wanna go outside and blow it up?"
Without him tagging along for longer than necessary, of course. While the jury was still out on Jen, Soraya didn't seem to take the situation serious enough and her "weapon" was without any use. He figured it would be best to split off from her. But he had to make it seem natural. After all, if he abandoned her like a jerk and they met each other one day later, it could bite him in the ass.
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Carrion Queen
- Posts: 427
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 6:35 am
A veces pasaba que yo repito todo los cosas que creo hice equivocado en mi vida. Fue un poco solitaria en mi vida -- con la excepción de cuando mi abuela era viva, pero ese es una historia para otra tiempo. Pienso much en firmando el documento diciendo que estoy tirando fuera parte de me alma que siempre fue parte de mi. Se por que hice lo y en este mundo, quizás necesita hacer estos cosas para sobrevivir.
Todos los noches veo el bolígrafo corrediziendo, y yo corre tratando de atraparlo.
Yo nunca discutir eso con alguien. No creo que alguien puede entender. Entendiendo es defícil. Por eso, la mayoridad no trata. Para ser justo, no yo ayudo en haciéndolo más fácil a entenderme.
De repente, de eso aturdimiento ella se amaneció.
Soraya nodded her head. She looked at Jen. Her shoulders dropped and her eyebrows came together, her eyes softened, becoming a little wider than before. She held the gaze for a few more seconds than was appropriate. Soraya dragged the plastic out of the farm house and outside. They were on a bit of a hill, from which they could just see some of the beach.
Soraya found the port, attached the battery-powered pump, and waited. Over four minutes, she watched the shapeless mound of plastic rise from the grave and take shape until it was a perfect, plastic orb, taller than she was. She switched the pump off, disconnected it and put it into her bag, which she slung over her shoulder. She looked at the pamphlet for further steps.
A strong gust of seabreeze ruffled her hair and picked up the bottom of her dress.
The zorb rocked. And it started
RO
Soraya looked up just as the zorb began making its escape down the hill.
"HEY!"
Helped along by the breeze of the ocean, the zorb rolled away. Soraya immediately took off, giving chase.
¡Lo fue bombeado!
"¡MALTIDO GLOBO, VEN ACA, HIJO PUTA MADRE!"
((Continuado en O:19 Examinar ))
Todos los noches veo el bolígrafo corrediziendo, y yo corre tratando de atraparlo.
Yo nunca discutir eso con alguien. No creo que alguien puede entender. Entendiendo es defícil. Por eso, la mayoridad no trata. Para ser justo, no yo ayudo en haciéndolo más fácil a entenderme.
De repente, de eso aturdimiento ella se amaneció.
Soraya nodded her head. She looked at Jen. Her shoulders dropped and her eyebrows came together, her eyes softened, becoming a little wider than before. She held the gaze for a few more seconds than was appropriate. Soraya dragged the plastic out of the farm house and outside. They were on a bit of a hill, from which they could just see some of the beach.
STEP 1, SUBSECTION A: Find the air port on your ZORB.
Attach your ZORB battery-powered air pump and put the switch into the ON position.
STEP 1, SUBSECTION B: Wait between 3 and 5 minutes for full ZORB inflation.
Attach your ZORB battery-powered air pump and put the switch into the ON position.
STEP 1, SUBSECTION B: Wait between 3 and 5 minutes for full ZORB inflation.
Soraya found the port, attached the battery-powered pump, and waited. Over four minutes, she watched the shapeless mound of plastic rise from the grave and take shape until it was a perfect, plastic orb, taller than she was. She switched the pump off, disconnected it and put it into her bag, which she slung over her shoulder. She looked at the pamphlet for further steps.
Zorbing was invented in New Zealand in 1994 by Andrew Akers and Dwane Van Der Sluis --
A strong gust of seabreeze ruffled her hair and picked up the bottom of her dress.
The zorb rocked. And it started
RO
LLING
Soraya looked up just as the zorb began making its escape down the hill.
"HEY!"
Helped along by the breeze of the ocean, the zorb rolled away. Soraya immediately took off, giving chase.
¡Lo fue bombeado!
"¡MALTIDO GLOBO, VEN ACA, HIJO PUTA MADRE!"
((Continuado en O:19 Examinar ))
Adrian LastName dispelled most of Jen's thesis and it leaked out of one of her ears- most of it. No way to be entirely sure when they were all barely adults, barely graduated, barely prepared for life on the other side of their studies, let alone life on the this side of civilization. With the guns and the potential for dead bodies and all...
"Well... not necessarily, right? In the case of all those other experiments," Evil word, that. In this context, anyways.
"they were people who had prior group identity of some sort, meanwhile..."
A minute passed- or some unit of time, hard to tell for sure.
What she actually said actually wasn't that consequential, probably? She remembered it but it was words in the abstract, with her own voice. Talking for the sake of talking. Jen hadn't been trying to hog the spotlight per say. She hadn't been all too enthused about the inflatable ball because that was both irrelevant and tacky in a way even the shop's shelves worth of hilariously lame souvenirs couldn't be. But she also hadn't been bothered by it.
The mood shift was downright startling, as a result. One minute she and Adrian were talking, the next...
Uh, what was that about a mother? Jen's watched their gathering's third start to evaporate over the horizon, a little human shape running after a half-inflated novelty toy, a scene that played out in the little window's worth of the outside world they could see through the house's open door.
"Um. Do we follow?"
"Well... not necessarily, right? In the case of all those other experiments," Evil word, that. In this context, anyways.
"they were people who had prior group identity of some sort, meanwhile..."
A minute passed- or some unit of time, hard to tell for sure.
What she actually said actually wasn't that consequential, probably? She remembered it but it was words in the abstract, with her own voice. Talking for the sake of talking. Jen hadn't been trying to hog the spotlight per say. She hadn't been all too enthused about the inflatable ball because that was both irrelevant and tacky in a way even the shop's shelves worth of hilariously lame souvenirs couldn't be. But she also hadn't been bothered by it.
The mood shift was downright startling, as a result. One minute she and Adrian were talking, the next...
Uh, what was that about a mother? Jen's watched their gathering's third start to evaporate over the horizon, a little human shape running after a half-inflated novelty toy, a scene that played out in the little window's worth of the outside world they could see through the house's open door.
"Um. Do we follow?"
Upcoming:
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
-
DerArknight
- Posts: 684
- Joined: Thu Feb 18, 2021 9:47 pm
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Fabiano's attempt at changing the topic ended up more effective than expected. All of a sudden, Soraya packed up her belongings, went outside through the kitchen door and... actually started to inflate the ball?
What is she planning to do with this thing? Fabiano wondered.
This was the nail in the coffin for his decision to not further associate with Soraya. She was either a weirdo or under shock. In any case, not someone he would feel safe around. That left Jen to deal with.
For some time, the two chatted about pointless stuff. It started with Jen telling a little bit about her family and living situation. Fabiano got that Jen was probably still confused about the situation - he was shacken as well - so he entertained her while occasionally throwing a look at what Soraya was doing. It was around the time when Jen came to an end of her talk and Fabiano felt it was his turn to say something that Soraya finished blowing up the ball. Said ball stood still for a few seconds before rolling away, its owner chasing while screaming in a foreign language. On the bright side, that meant he had one person less to worry about right now.
"Um. Do we follow?" Jen asked.
"No." Fabiano answered bluntly. "If she is always like this, she will just draw unwanted attention.
"I believe the best course of action right now would be to collect more information. Like how big is this island? How many people were abducted? Are there any clues on where we are?
"In order to do that, I plan to get moving. The first question should be the easiest to answer, so I will try to find the nearest beach and then go around the rim of the island clockwise. Or counter-clockwise, I doubt it matters. You can tag along if you want."
Please say no! He thought. I am only making this offer because just splitting off would be awkward.
What is she planning to do with this thing? Fabiano wondered.
This was the nail in the coffin for his decision to not further associate with Soraya. She was either a weirdo or under shock. In any case, not someone he would feel safe around. That left Jen to deal with.
For some time, the two chatted about pointless stuff. It started with Jen telling a little bit about her family and living situation. Fabiano got that Jen was probably still confused about the situation - he was shacken as well - so he entertained her while occasionally throwing a look at what Soraya was doing. It was around the time when Jen came to an end of her talk and Fabiano felt it was his turn to say something that Soraya finished blowing up the ball. Said ball stood still for a few seconds before rolling away, its owner chasing while screaming in a foreign language. On the bright side, that meant he had one person less to worry about right now.
"Um. Do we follow?" Jen asked.
"No." Fabiano answered bluntly. "If she is always like this, she will just draw unwanted attention.
"I believe the best course of action right now would be to collect more information. Like how big is this island? How many people were abducted? Are there any clues on where we are?
"In order to do that, I plan to get moving. The first question should be the easiest to answer, so I will try to find the nearest beach and then go around the rim of the island clockwise. Or counter-clockwise, I doubt it matters. You can tag along if you want."
Please say no! He thought. I am only making this offer because just splitting off would be awkward.