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Scrounging for gear.
Little did Blake know, he was not alone. At least, it was unlikely the boy noticed the most notorious of his classmates following him, stalking through houses and alleys, watching him from the occasional window, even once considering following him into one of the houses, though he hid behind a wall when the boy walked out. Indeed, he may have thought he was alone in the Residential District of the island the students of Bathurst High School had been dumped into. But he was wrong there.

The very presence of one Walter Smith proved that much. He'd returned to consciousness some time before Blake had arrived, sprawled on the kitchen floor of a house, with a pack reading "B15-Smith" lying next to him. Taking a second to get his bearings, he was unaffected as the memories of what happened in that room returned to him (though he did feel anger at the apparent betrayal of Steven Wilson, the quiet and tough, but impartial new principal they had gotten at the beginning of the year), the clip not interesting him and the nerd's death being unfortunate but in the end inevitable. Rummaging through his pack, he had seen Danya's instruction manual, just as Wilson said he would, and read through it. Satisfied that he was familiar with the rules and had been reminded of any he might not have known from watching the previous Program (he had not watched much of it, admittedly, especially when the cameras lost their signals around the ninth day), he eventually put it back, noticing the rations, medical supplies and water, but then seeing something else.

"A rock...? Why is this in here?" he had wondered to himself, arching one of his eyebrows before taking it out along with the "rulebook" (which is what he'd call the manual Danya had given the students from now on), flipping through to see if a rock was mentioned anywhere. after a short time, he determined this was supposed to be his assigned weapon. Now, while most would be infuriated at getting such a poor weapon, Walter simply calmly placed the rulebook back into his bag, zipped it up, and examined the rock. At least the rock they'd picked was decently large and rough, looking capable of doing some damage with a proper hit.

"Interesting...but I don't see how I could make much use of it." he had again said to himself, making a proper point. It wasn't that he wasn't comfortable with killing the scum also known as his classmates, in fact his only regret about that was that Jack Bexley hadn't been in school that day, but it would take too long to kill someone with a rock.

I suppose I could throw it at someone...but then I need something to back it up with. he thought at the time, looking around. On one of the counters, he saw a holder of sorts, though it did not have any knives like such things usually did. Grimacing, he searched through the drawers one would expect to find silverware in. Nothing. He'd have to improvise. Looking around the kitchen, he didn't see anything useful. Or at least, anything that wouldn't take too long to make into a weapon anyway. Looking around, he found his eyes passing by a sliding glass door in the living room that went out into a yard.

Damn it, nothi- he did a double take in the middle of this thought, returning his eyes to the sliding glass door.

Of course, the glass! Well, at least now I've got a use for that rock. he thought again, picking up the rock and moving towards the glass door. When he was close enough, he raised the rock, but stopped, lowering it. If he were to break the door from where he was, most if not all of the glass would simply fall outside onto the patio and lawn, it would be an unnecessary hassle to try to pick up a suitable piece then. Knowing this, he opened the door and stepped outside, closing the door behind him before taking a few steps and turning around.

There was a loud crashing sound as the glass door shattered, a rock flying straight through it and landing a few inches away from the mess caused. Glass everywhere, shards large and small, some just powdered dust completely crushed by either the stone or the shoes of the man who walked through the hole. Walter was careful to step around the glass, not because he was worried about being cut, but because he had broken that glass door for a reason. Stepping around all the glass as best he could, he looked over the pile. There weren't many satisfactory ones, but one immediately came to mind. It was one that had been almost right next to where the rock hit, but it was still decently-sized. It was about five inches long, and had a rather nasty-looking jagged end that'd suit him just fine for now. Being careful to grab the flat bottom part of the shard as to not cut himself, he also took the rock, putting both on one of the counters in the kitchen. Aware that there probably weren't gloves in the house, and that he'd only risk injuring his hand if he wielded the shard with just the bare glass, he considered his options. The easiest choice would be to tape up part of the bottom and use that as a handle, so he started to look through the house for tape. After a couple of frustrating minutes searching, he managed to find a roll of duct tape and taped up the bottom two inches (more or less), gripping it to make sure it worked alright. Satisfied at this, he pocketed his improvised knive, making sure the taped part was sticking out a bit.

It might not be the best weapon out there, but it'll do. As long as I'm careful I can do just fine with this until I find something better. he again thought. He had heard two shotgun blasts a bit earlier, but it didn't matter too much. He didn't even know how to use the things anyway, beyond "point gun, pull trigger". This brought his attention to the refridgerator, rather conspicuous in the small kitchen.

I should stock up a bit, I'll be damned if I stick with those rations. That's scum food. I'm Walter Smith for fuck's sake! I deserve better. thinking this, he opened the bag, put the rock in, picked it up and opened the door of the refridgerator. With the electricity limited, the lights weren't working in the fridge, and only a slight cool breeze was coming out, indicating it was starting to fail. Looking through, he only decided to take a few Pepsi cans, a Gatorade bottle and a cold slice of pizza he saw and placed on the counter, placing the cans in the bag. Moving onto the closet on the other side of the kitchen, he looked through there, putting in a few loaves of bread, and a couple of energy bars, having found little else. Reminding himself that he only needed enough food to keep himself alive, and that the human body could last a few days without food if necessary, he closed the bag again and, after heating up the pizza and eating it, left the house.

That's when he saw Blake Ross entering a house near the one he just left. Surprised at the sudden encounter, Walter had pulled out the glass shard and moved to intercept Blake, but the boy was in the house before Walter got to him, having walked when the smart thing to do would've been to sprint at Blake while he had the element of surprise. Regardless, he contemplated following Blake inside and killing him, but decided against it. It wasn't that he was reluctant to kill, but he had no idea what weapon the other boy had received, and that a shiv made from a glass shard was hardly the most durable of weapons. For all he knew (as he did not know Blake at all), the boy could be waiting in there with a trap for Walter. It would not do for him to die so early in the game.

So he waited, standing by the part of the wall that would be concealed from the boy's view by the door opening. This prevented Walter from being seen when Blake eventually left, and Walter proceeded to follow the boy in between houses. He was confused, but not disturbed by the fact that Blake had left that first house seemingly as he'd entered, unarmed. The area was rather desolate this early in the game, so Blake could've easily heard Walter if he'd shouted to him, but Walter surpressed the sudden urge to yell something like "Outlander! We have your woman!" to the other boy, and simply waited for his chance. As Blake moved from house to house, Walter would follow, occasionally going into the newly vacated house to check for things left behind (such as extra food and clothing, though he found nothing apparently useful in the weapons department, forcing him to continue to rely on the shard of glass and rock for now.). He'd pause to take the rock out and keep it in his left hand when Blake entered the most recent house, and when Blake inevitably left this one, Walter would wait for the boy to move a couple of feet away and then hurl the rock at him, hopefully hitting him in the head and knocking him down in order to stun him for Walter's charge, intending to run the boy through.

Just as Wilson said, Survival of the Fittest. I'm the fittest, the only one who deserves to live. I'll kill them all, and damn right I'll enjoy it!

OOC: Two things, Nealosi: 1) No, I don't intend to kill Blake here, just a bit of an opening scuffle, and 2) I did not intend to come across as controlling him, so sorry if I did.

So here's the deal...
Well, since no SOTF psycho is complete without a decent bodycount, I'd like to open negotiations for Gail's rights, if you'll allow it.

Prologue Polls...
Meh, they were all good, 'cept for Bathurst's (written by yours truly), so that's what I voted for.

Character Interviews
Another question, aimed at all characters not my own:

Which do you prefer, Fast Zombies or Slow Zombies? Please explain your answer and use complete sentences. Failure to show your work shall result in collar detonation. :P

Character Interviews
What's with the closet BSDM stuff?
Walter: Do you want the full story or the cliff's notes version? *Confused look* And what do closets have to do with it?
Do you like whips, chains, and handcuffs too?
Walter: No. Why use a chain, which is only good for tying the person down, by the way, and even then not very effective, or a whip when a saw, garrotte or knife works so much better? Chains and whips are for idiots who have no idea how torture really works. Why...*is abruptly cut off and ushered off the set by security before he can go on a tirade about how BDSM fetishists are making genuine torture look like a joke*

...Hey, you asked a psychopath who tortures people in his spare time for his views on the matter, you expected it to not wander off into that area?

Edit: Forgot questions:
Seth Malvice:
How is it that an attempted mugging, of all things, caused you to turn into an emotionless shell, if you'll forgive the usage of that term?

Character Interviews

Two questions:
1) How long do you think it would take you to solve one of the "death trap puzzles" in the Saw movies?
2) If I told you you look like a football, how would you respond?

Walter Smith
Name: Walter Smith
Gender: Male
Age: 17 (was homeschooled for most of his life, got bored and "convinced" his father to allow him to enroll in public school, so he started late)
Grade: 10th
School: Bathurst High, Mrs. Rowena’s homeroom.
Hobbies and Interests: He's the son of a politician, albeit more corrupt than the one that spawned Jack Bexley, and he occasionally "helps" his father with "business". Some say he tortures and murders people for fun and doing so to attractive females arouses him (he refused to confirm or deny the second, and when asked about the first he said "I do it sometimes, it's kind of cool I guess, now are you going to get out of my face or is something bad going to have to happen to you?" to the kid who worked up the courage to ask.). Another, rather odd in comparison to his other ones, hobby of his is watching Western films, though this is largely irrelevant.

Appearance: Most people would describe him as "creepy looking", but whether that is because of his actual physical appearance or his reputation depends on the person asked. He is pretty tall, around six feet, and also thin, with the only outstanding muscle groups on him being the gut and leg area due to an error made in his exercise plan (which is in contrast to his "greedy pig of a father" as he calls him. Ryan Smith is almost as wide around as a large globe and is seemingly made of several layers of flesh thrown onto each other. Walter has a relatively easy time bending his father to his will, since Ryan finds his son to be somewhat intimidating.). His eyes are hazel and uninteresting, so they will not be mentioned much, though the pupils of said eyes tend to always look dilated, making the majority of the eye appear to be hazel. It makes his stare rather disconcerting. He has dark brown hair he has shaped into an almost "greaser" like look, long on the back and with some of the front going down to his forehead, allowed less growth on the sides and top but still thick there. His face would be described as “handsome” if it weren’t for his overall intimidating demeanor, with a well defined jaw line, rather “smooth” facial features unbroken by acne or excess facial hair and eyebrows somewhere in the middle between “thin” and “bushy”. He tends to wear a casual black sweatshirt along with jeans.

Biography: The individual known as Walter Smith was conceived during a night of intercourse between a corrupt politician and his recent wife. How the wife could control her urge to regurgitate long enough to marry and breed with him will forever be a mystery however, as she died of complications in childbirth. Considering the personality and position of Ryan Smith, a reasonable conclusion is that he blackmailed her into doing so, but this is Walter’s history, not his mother’s. Regardless, when Walter was born he seemed to be completely normal, other than the slight oddity that was the appearance of his eyes. Growing up however, he started to act stranger and stranger. His father and his hired caretakers all noticed this, but did not know what the problem was. This got more and more disturbing as the years went on, by seven he had started to develop a vicious temper and equally vicious methods of dealing with said temper. By nine, he was exhibiting obvious pleasure in the pain of others. At twelve years three months and six days old, his father found him covered in blood holding a kitchen knife, one of his caretakers cowering on the ground clutching a partially severed hand and a certain area of his pants that was soaked in his blood, his chest also bloody. Looking up to see his father, the young Walter simply said “Oh, hello father. I did not see you there.”.

Deeply disturbed by this turn of events, Ryan talked Walter into going to a nearby psychiatrist for a psychological evaluation (much to Ryan’s relief, Walter accepted the idea with no struggle, though he refused to explain what happened to the caretaker, who sadly passed away on the way to the hospital a few minutes later). The evaluation results came as expected: Walter was a complete psychopath, he had been born that way. Anyone there for that event could easily tell you about the haunting quality Walter’s eyes had as he nodded at the results, seeming as if he had known in advance, but wanted professional confirmation. Just as disturbingly, they received word of the caretaker’s death shortly after they arrived back at Ryan’s mansion, but Walter showed no remorse. In fact, he merely shrugged and said “I suppose I should wash the stains out of the carpet.” and got to work doing so.

When the police went to investigate the death, Ryan told them it had been a robbery gone wrong, which they believed (though one officer needed “alternate” means of persuasion, namely bribery and Ryan threatening the lives of the officer’s entire family if he did not believe him.) due to his position. This would be the beginning of the true relation between political father and psychopathic son, the son doing as he wished while the father bailing him out of any trouble he got in and doing whatever he asked out of fear of ending up like that one caretaker, occasionally taking enemies of his into his house for Walter to “take care of”. Walter had complete diplomatic immunity, and both Smiths knew it. Of course, what they also knew was who really was in control of the alliance. Ryan was secretly frightened of his son, doing as he desired to avoid drawing his ire. From then on, people looking at the Smith Mansion felt a sense of dread very similar to that Harper Lee and her main character Scout described the Radley House as giving in To Kill a Mockingbird. For the next few years, people in Denton had a habit of disappearing. Undesirables, derelicts, bums, drunks, political enemies, it was almost like Nazi Germany.

Of course, around the time he was fourteen, the gang war between the Jackals and Hellbirds was in full swing as the son of the assassinated Hellbirds leader took control and swore revenge against the animalistic gang. His actions in his time would set the stage for many of his relationships, so listen up. Both sides wanted the politicians on their side for an advantage, and the Jackals approached him first. Three high-ranking members showed up at his door, asking to meet with him. Not trusting them in his house, he went out to meet them. Here they spoke to him about joining them, which Walter was thoroughly disinterested in. The members were persistent and tempers started to flare. Finally, Walter stopped them.
“Look, you do not want to make me or my family angry, and you are starting to. I advise that you leave.” one of the gang members made the stupid move of challenging him after he said this.
“And what will you do if we don’t?”
“This.” Walter replied, and much to the shock of the other two, he ripped out the member’s eyes, kicking him to the ground while he screamed. The two unharmed Jackals took the hint and ran, but the first wasn’t so lucky. Before he could go into the inevitable shock, Walter had stomped on his throat three times, which finished him off (actually, the first two broke his neck, the third was just to get rid of some stress.). Viewing this with no more disgust or remorse than he had the caretaker he had killed when he was twelve, he simply said “I tried to warn you.” to the corpse and went inside, finding his father and getting him to get rid of the corpse. Yet another person had “disappeared” and the case went cold as all the cases Walter was responsible for did. Yet another notch in Walter’s evil belt.

Some time later, Ryan was approached by a contingent of Hellbirds, who had heard about the incident with the Jackals and relayed a message from their new leader, stating their proposal to act as bodyguards against enemies like the Jackals (who would likely attempt revenge for the incident, which they actually did on two occasions, both times fought off by the Hellbirds.). Ryan quickly accepted. Time passed and life went on, the Hellbirds not interfering directly in Walter’s activities except when they needed to do the job they were there for. At sixteen Walter convinced his father to allow him to enroll in the nearby Bathurst High School (unknown to him, Hellbirds leader Alexander Stevens and a few other members were also students there) and a few fights between the rival gangs happened near his mansion, but otherwise life was still normal. Later that year, the gang war ended in a Hellbird victory. To celebrate, a good deal of the Hellbirds’ membership went down to a nearby bar to essentially drink themselves to oblivion, while Alex asked him to show up at his apartment to discuss matters that were Hellbirds business.

When he arrived there, Alex was accompanied by several other members, and gave him a beer can while they discussed what to do with the new territory and the business arrangement with the Smith family. After about an hour of discussion, the settlement was reached that the Hellbirds would continue to act as bodyguards of the Smith family and would also take on the role of “enforcers” while Walter attended Bathurst. Of course, Walter had been drinking the can during the discussion, believing turning it down would offend the gang leader (who was of course a hardened criminal, even if he didn’t like it. Best way to survive talking to a hardened criminal is not to offend or anger him, whether you‘re a psychopathic son of a corrupt politician or not.). Since he had not done so before, he unfortunately did not have a very high alcohol tolerance, and by the time both parties agreed to the conditions of the deal and shook hands, he was apparently intoxicated. Staggering out the door, he heard Alex and another member conversing on whether or not it was a good idea to become his permanent ally (or “attack dog”, as the unknown member put it). Unfortunately, relations between the political family and the street gang would be forever soured by the following event.

While leaving through the hall in the apartment building and heading towards the staircase that would take him back down to the lower floors and eventually to the exit, he encountered Alex’s older sister, who was coming home from her part time job as a waitress in a nearby restaurant. Drunk and knowing his judgment was impaired, he stood still as she came up, trying to figure out what to do in the situation. When realizing he was standing in her way, the girl at first greeted him and politely asked him to move, but when he showed no signs of response she tried to push past him. This proved to be a mistake as, when her shoulder brushed his arm, he grabbed her by the arm and pushed her against the wall. Before she could protest, he was on her, kissing her while forcing her down to the floor. As soon as she was free to, she screamed, that coupled with the noise made with her other attempts at struggle, alerting Alexander and the other Hellbirds in his apartment as Walter tore her shirt. Due to being drunk, he was still clumsily trying to remove her bra and stop her struggling when he heard the footsteps and looked up just in time to see the sole of Alexander's shoe heading right towards his head. The kick caught him right between the eyes, sending him tumbling/falling down the stairs and hitting the wall with a stunned "thud". When he got up, they were on him, though especially the enraged Alexander Stevens, each beating at him with no mercy. He fought back, and even hit Alex with a surprise headbutt and took another Hellbird out with a strike to the throat, but his intoxicated state made him no match for them, and he was eventually thrown down the second set of stairs into the main lobby/entrance of the apartment complex, where the back of his head was smashed against the floor until he completely blacked out. Moving quickly, Alex and a few other Hellbirds dropped him on the front door of his mansion, leaving a note pinned to his shirt, threatening to kill Walter if he ever showed up near Alex's home again. Walter had many bruises, a sizeable bump on the head, a bloody nose and the hair on the back of his head was matted with blood, but they would fade in time.

So far, he has lived somewhat normally after that, sure there was the occasional corrupt "favor" or someone randomly disappearing, and there was once a rumor circulating about several grisly "accidents" connected to him that he had to shoot down, but nothing too out of the ordinary for him has happened since then (key word's "for him").

Advantages: He has killed before, and enjoys it. This willingness to kill and maim his competition will give him a leg up in the Program.
Disadvantages: He has never used a gun in his life, thus he will be given a certain handicap in the event that he recieves a gun as a weapon. He also prefers to scare and "toy with" opponents, this reduces his stealth and could get him killed. Sometime before the Program started, he developed a sick obsession with a female classmate by the name of Mariavel Varella. This could distract him on the island. He also has many enemies, all of whom will likely be gunning for him come the start of the game, meaning he will constantly have to keep an eye over his shoulder.
Number: Boy #15

You can't NOT love this...
Yeah, this is a pretty amusing video.

Facta Obscura
Yeah, SOTF takes place in the BR movie's universe (or at least, that's what I've been assuming we've picked.), though with a few elements of the novel put in (such as the "no time limit as long as someone dies every day" thing).

That sounds like a good idea. It'll keep things under control too.

It was mostly a staff thing, we agreed it'd be better to do it like that, so that's what we did.

Alexander Stevens
Posted by: Slayer Jun 17 2006, 07:45 AM
If there was one place Alexander "Blade" Stevens found dull above all others, it was Bathurst High school. Endless hours of people doing nothing but talk at him, that's all that happened there. He couldn't even bully the teachers into letting him skip class to watch the SOTF Act in the lounge anymore, as that game had reached its conclusion. He didn't even need to be here for education really, except for official recognition (his mother didn’t like him skipping school, but never really did anything about it. She knew he was trying to help the family income in his own way, and that his last name made him duty-bound to lead the Hellbirds.), he had one of the smarter members of the Hellbirds tutor him in times where they could slack off and let down their guard. If it wasn't for the fact that he had to keep an eye on the gang known as the "Bloody Fists" that had popped up as school bullies, he'd probably never show up. He'd much rather go north of his turf with some other Hellbirds and bash up some Jackals, or south to tangle with the Prophets (a Christian gang that dressed in priest robes and shaved their heads, they killed anyone who wasn't Christian or did anything they considered "ungodly". They mainly used knives and guns, but the biggest member of the gang-appropriately nicknamed Goliath by his fellow Prophets, as he was over seven feet tall and all muscle- often used a bike chain as a weapon, and it wasn't unheard of for them to agree to a simple fistfight, as had happened about a year prior in a territory dispute. Rather than engage in a bloody war, the two gangs agreed there would be a one on one fight between a member of the Prophets and a member of the Hellbirds. Though he could've done it himself, Alex had sent out Thomas Diftre to fight the massive "Goliath" fighting for the Prophets. Thomas knocked Goliath out cold after a grueling ten minute brawl.), maybe all the way to Staten Island to stir shit up with the Musashis, the Royals or the Spartans. But no, he couldn't trust those upstarts, declaring themselves a separate gang and causing trouble in his territory. He should've agreed to set them straight the minute he heard of them, but he had wanted to avoid a confrontation at the time, and decided to watch them instead. The time to take action seemed to be drawing nearer.

Thus, Alexander found himself walking to the school, fully aware that he was very late but also aware the teachers would be reluctant to do anything about it. Placing his right hand into his pocket, he fingered the switchblade he always carried with him, running the tips of his index and middle fingers over the silver colored handle with an engraving of a phoenix on it, his ring finger finding the switch itself that would turn it from harmless object to deadly weapon. It's not that he had always liked the lifestyle of a criminal, he had been born into it. His father was the previous leader of the Hellbirds, so he was a member at birth. The instant he was old enough (his father believed this was at about four) he was taught how to use a knife and a gun (he was now very well known on the streets for his skill with the former), along with pick-pocketing, breaking and entering, how to properly mug a civilian, and all the other tools of the outlaw trade. Since his father was leader this also included negotiations and executive decisions. When his father was assassinated by members of the Jackals about three years before present day, Alex was forced into leadership. After the bloody war of revenge that ended in the deaths of one third of all the Jackals’ members (the police didn’t care if the gangs killed each other, they saw it as the lawn mowing itself, so to speak, so they let them do whatever they wanted to each other as long as no law-abiding citizens were hurt) and the deaths of quite a few Hellbirds as well, Alex had found his gang ruling a good part of the central portion of Denton, New Jersey, and with that new turf came new recruits. It was there that his train of thought was interrupted, as he found himself in front of the school, and very close to two students. One he recognized as Jenna Cassidy while the other he didn't know. They seemed to be walking together. Deciding to crash the party as he usually did on days like this, he changed course and headed for them.
"Hey Jenna, you decided to show up too?" he said when he was close enough to not have to yell, wincing as he heard the animal get hit by a car. He didn't know the boy, but there was nothing to do, and he didn't feel like going to Raymond's House of Beer (fancy term for a bar really. Ray had thought it a good idea at the time. It was a main Hellbirds hangout, but it didn't harm business too much as most normal patrons had a nack for showing up almost only when the Hellbirds weren't around.) to hang around and play pool or get drunk, so he thought he could at least have a conversation with a fellow member. Seeing as he had no idea where Diftre had gone to, talking to Jenna was really his main choice, whether the new guy liked it or not.

Posted by: Lien Jun 18 2006, 02:52 AM
She let her hips sway as she walked, one of the last feminine traits she displayed openly when she was shooting the shit with anyone. But with the boy's inquiry she showed a little less feminimity and a little more of a caustic snap as she halted for a moment.

"Fuckin' can't enjoy a moment can ya? I don't have anything in mind quite yet, just as long as it's far away from this damned piece of--"

Jenna stopped short of where the withering school lawn met with the walkway to the school, for in the corner of her eye she caught the familiar figure of Alex Stevens approaching quickly. Her body shifted towards him and waited for the gang leader to strike up some sort of conversation, rather she hoped he would. She kept on the face of a girl who couldn't care less about people, and often tried to play the oddball card while she was around others that weren't involved with the Hellbirds, but truth be told, Jenna was a conformist in the very essence of the word. Which is why, when he finally noticed her and spoke, she was eager to drop anything going on with Richard in order to accomodate Alex.

"I guess so," she answered simply, letting the words flow, simple and short, so as not to babble towards her mentor, "But no one else put in any effort, and it's easy to see why."

Her thumb jerked in the general direction of the school, the relaxed expression on her face contradicting her perplexed feeling of nervousness at possibly saying the wrong thing, and her lips formed a smirk that mirrored some of the other members of the Hellbirds. The smirk was the one where they found it amusing, like setting fire to ants with a microscope. Like her peers were really just insects set on the world to be pitied but ridiculed.

"Mariavel and some other drama going on, she fell down like a ton of bricks after trying to take me on."

Posted by: Slayer Jun 18 2006, 03:22 AM
Jenna had proved quickly responsive the instant he struck up conversation, just as usual. Of all the 100+ members of the Hellbirds, Jenna was one of the few Alex knew truly respected him, something he appreciated. With most of the old members thinking he had manipulated the events leading to his father's death in order to claim power, he needed all the loyalty the new generation could give him. He recognized the smirk on her face as she voiced the disgust towards Bathurst shared by most of the gang (the only one he knew of that enjoyed going was "Einstein", one of the gang's youngest members. He had been aquired in a bargain with a store owner who had been unable to pay protection money. In exchange for allowing him a bit more time to get the money, they'd accept his son into the Hellbirds. He never was sure what Einstein, of course that was merely his nickname, thought of it, but he seemed to have gotten used to the life), the last time he had seen that grin was after one of the new members had mugged an old man, the grin of vicious amusement. Alex wore a visible grimace, however, when Jenna mentioned Mariavel. He had not wanted open confrontation with the Bloody Fists yet, but it seemed that could no longer be avoided.
"You know they're going to try and pay us back for that, Jenna. I don't know about Rischio but Mattlock and Kingston will definitely be at our throats for it." he said simply, taking his hand out of his pocket, where it had subconsciously been gripping the switchblade in there (he had let go of it, of course). Looking over at the new boy, he decided to speak up again.
"Do you mind, kid? This conversation is none of your business." those were the only words he'd afford the kid before looking back to Jenna and taking note of the cut on her arm.
"I take it she didn't fight fair?"

Posted by: Lien Jun 18 2006, 04:13 AM
She didn't know exactly how Alex would react, she wasn't a mind reader, or all that intelligent anymore, but when he spoke to her his words stung of that tone that her parents never spoke to her without. Disappointment.
"You know they're going to try and pay us back for that, Jenna. I don't know about Rischio but Mattlock and Kingston will definitely be at our throats for it."

Deciding on the fly that showing the fact that she was rather confused at the leader not enjoying the obvious strength the gang had other this new one, she let her mind focus on the question he asked after the comment about the fight. Jenna rolled her eyes to express her disgust with the previous situation involving the blonde, and pulled her hands out of her pockets as she folded them across her chest, nodding towards the school again before she started her tale of the event.

"She comes into the bathroom to fight me, and I couldn't say no. I'm sorry," she apologized, though not completely sincerely, more as if she was using it to excuse herself, " But I had her, and she pulled a knife. It was a fist fight, and she pulled a knife on me!"

Jenna slipped off her jacket sleeve to show the cut that the bitch had left on her, shrugging like it hadn't done much to her at all. The cut still hurt like hell.

"If she's a reflection on the whole gang, it doesn't look like it's even something to worry about."

Posted by: Genzu Jun 20 2006, 09:35 PM
Richard looked at the other boy with a nod and walked a little ahead minding his own buisness. It more the fact Richard simply didnt care that made him agree with the other kids wishes. He also notaced the boy had something in his pockets. the outline of his hand showed and there was still something of a buldge in his pockets. He was in a gang, so logicoly thinking, he was carring a knife or something like such with him. He wondered if the other kids where in a gang and he was the only one that wasnt. He didnt want to partake in this action. To him it just seemed plain wrong. It was also rather clear to him that this "Jenna" didnt show much interest towards him. He figured this out because she had not introduced him. He sat down on a bench and waited. He watched the too as he waited. He couldnt get rid of the sinking feeling he would be ditched by this girl. She only seemed to be that kind of person. Of course Richard would say nothing of this. After a while he pulled out his bass and strummed it a bit. he began to play songs he has thought up himself with it. He hummed the lyrics as well.

They seemed to have been speaking of gang matters so it was of no interest to Richard. He would once in a while switch to a new song, now he would be doing songs he listended to on the radio. If these two where to speak for much longer, he may have gone crazy of bordem.

Posted by: ZigZaggerty Jun 30 2006, 05:48 AM
((Continued from: http://z10.invisionfree.com/SurvivalOfTheF...showtopic=913))

John stepped out through the double doors, turning his gaze to three people standing near the steps. He turned away and jumped over the other side of the stairs. He reached into his bag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes along with a smooth metal lighter.

The flame brought itself into life with a flick of John's finger and it lit the cigarette now dangling from his mouth. John breathed the smoke into his lungs and a soothing feeling began to wash through him. He needed to calm his nerves, he could feel his anger rising

I'll get you your pills tommorow John. One day won't hurt you...

The words of his aunt rang through his head, today was one of those days. Monday always was one of those days. He could feel his anger building up inside him as he thought of Mariavel slapping that guy and those guys who wanted to fight.

god damn motherfuckers kill kill fuckers gonna kill them shit fuckers...

John clenched his eyes, he could feel the blood running through his veins, the sound of his heart pumping in his ears, he could feel the veins in his neck beginning to bulge, he tried to calm down and focus on other things, namely the people on the other side of the stairs. Gang members is what he gathered from what they were talking about. Gangs made this area a living hell sometimes, it made him enraged.

i should bust their faces in those fuckers gonna kill them with their own god damn chains and shit...

This was getting to be too much, he could feel his eyes going slightly bloodshot, it was a strange tingly feeling. His teeth clenched along with his hands, nails digging into skin which begin to draw blood. Pittering as it fell to the pavement his mind receded into itself. He was beginning to have the flashback.

It was the living room on the hot summers day, sweltering heat pent up in the old house. The air was changing with the heat, taking it's own hallucegenic qualities. Fire rose from the kitchen as screams of terror flew from within it. The sounds taking their own shape into the air. Her face in agony as it vanished in the air. The heat grew more, fire rising as it hit the carpet.

They were like pillars of hatred trying to consume him and make him do the things he swore he would never do again. The face of it was all he saw in the flickering chaos, his father sneering as the room filled up with more smoke and fire. The screams grew louder, but the sound that hit him most was skin against something hot. That horrid sound of flesh sizzling away, peeling from the skin. Screams and fire, screams and fire...

John took another drag from the cigarette. Once again filling his lungs with the soothing smoke. Calming himself down to a more suitable level. He chuckled as he continued to listen to the people on the other side. He let the cigarette fall from his mouth and stepped on it with his right foot. He felt calmed now, but was compelled to listen more to the people on the other side of the stairs.

Posted by: Slayer Jul 2 2006, 05:18 AM
Alex had waited for the new arrival to leave before responding to Jenna, who told him about the fight while the newcomer sat on a nearby bench just out of earshot. According to her, Mariavel had challenged her, and then pulled a knife. Not at all a proper way to rumble. Jenna had never lied to him, she seemed to respect him too much, so he saw no reason not to believe her. Of course, it wasn't that he wasn't proud of the obvious power the Hellbirds seemed to have over the Bloody Fists, it was more a matter of reputation for him. Tough was always a word that came to mind talking about the Hellbirds, but the school had always been a sort of "truce area", where students were for the most part (naturally being teenagers there were always some problems) allowed to go about their business peacefully no matter where they were from or what their affiliations were. How long would it be until the rumor spread of that tradition being broken, before people starting believing they couldn't go to Bathurst without risking being assaulted by the Hellbirds? It was something he had to consider, had to worry about.
"I understand," he finally said, "She challenged you, you had to accept. I'll talk to Seth about it. Just because one of his whores doesn't fight fair doesn't mean he can't listen to reason. Maybe something can be arranged." When he finished saying this, another student came out of the school, being seen out of the corner of Alex's eye, turning his head to look, he saw the kid light a cigarrette and go behind the stairs, which were within earshot.
Is he trying to listen in? What's he pulling? Is he an informant, a spy, just some random kid? What if he's a cop? I hear they've been getting desperate enough to hire kids. he thought, taking a moment to clear his head of the temporary paranoia with a shake. A gang leader always had to be on his guard, always looking behind his shoulder and monitoring every situation for traps. He never knew when the cops would try to arrest him, or a rival gang would attack, or if one of his members would just attempt a coup. Such stress was natural under those conditions. Not minding it, he again gestured towards Jenna's cut.
"You sure you don't want to get that looked at?"

Posted by: Lien Jul 12 2006, 03:14 AM
Jenna nodded eagerly when Alex repeated what she had said, a sense of excitement building in her stomach at his understanding and agreement. Though it was of her own motivation to beat the living shit out of Mariavel, Alex's approval made this a moment where she was flying high. She licked her bottom lip and let her gaze wander for a moment, thinking about what she was going to do now that Alex was around to shoot the shit with. Her eyes darted back when his head turned towards the school, Jenna barely catching the figure near the stairs. She certainly had no clue who was there, but the fact that he was catching Alex's attention made her edgy.

"Want me to tell him to fuck off?" She asked as her eyes went from Alex, to the figure near the stairs. When he seemed to bring his attention back to their conversation, Jenna left her gaze for a moment longer at the figure, narrowed her eyes, then returned her focus back onto Alex.

"I might later," she barely took her eyes away to check on her arm, which was clotting in a dark and thick line from the blood being allowed to flow from the wound. A few droplets made the cut look theatrical in a sense.

"Rather not have to go back into that school, not unless you want some company in the hallways," she finished before awaiting his answer.

Posted by: Slayer Jul 25 2006, 02:24 AM
"No, that's alright. He's minding his own business, so we can leave him alone." Alex said to Jenna's question on whether to get rid of the smoker or not. He didn't appear to be doing anything, so Alex didn't want to cause trouble. "But we'll know who to go after if we lose any guys in a police raid within this week." a week was reasonable. If nothing happened within a week then it meant the guy wasn't a rat, seeing as the police seemed to act quickly if anyone ratted out Hellbirds activity. Pausing to examine the cut, he found himself in agreement with Jenna. It seemed to be healing already, though he'd still need to talk to Seth about it. When she asked her next question, he stopped to think for a bit, subconsciously fingering his switchblade again. After a few minutes of thought, he heard the bell for the next period ring, and made up his mind.
"That won't be needed. I don't think I'll show up this period. I never had a taste for Art class." he said, grinding his teeth a bit. It was true, he didn't really like Art class. It was one of the three classes he shared with him. Alex was not in the mood to be in the proximity of Walter Smith.
That fucking psycho. I wish his dad had never agreed to my offer. he thought, glaring and almost pulling out the switchblade before stopping himself. He could barely surpress his hatred at the memory of what Smith had tried to do, what he had done.

Alex could still remember what it was like helping Nicole to her feet, having to listen to her crying and trying to cover herself while going into the Stevens' apartment, wanting to hug her, just to show he cared, but knowing the last thing she needed was any man, even her little brother, that close to her after what happened. Thus, he was forced to simply hold her hand, patting her on the back occasionally, and then letting her go into her room to get changed. Soon after one of the Hellbirds came in, telling him what he already expected. Johnny "Ponyboy" Walker (Alex had jokingly suggested this nickname to him when he found out his favorite book was The Outsiders.), the Hellbird who had been uneasy about becoming the Smith family's permanent ally, and who had been caught in the throat during the drunken Walter's surprisingly fierce but futile attempts at fighting back, had died. Alex had actually been rather fond of Walker, who had had a bit of a crush on Alex's older sister (and had even spoken to Alex about it. To this day Alex was sure Johnny had been surprised at Alex's approval.), and (or at least he believed) unlike the other Hellbirds who fought him because Alex did, Johnny had seemed to want to stop Walter from hurting Nicole any more than he had, and had attacked with fervor nearing Alex's.

He'd gotten a full strength (though drunken) haymaker to the trachea for his trouble. The last words he'd gasped out, cliche though they may have been, were to Daniel "Viper" Hedderman, asking him to ask Nicole if he (Johnny) had ever stood a chance. This didn't exactly brighten his sister's mood, knowing that someone had gotten killed trying to help you never was the kind of thing to do that (Daniel had relayed this to Nicole in private, so Alex never knew what she had answered, and had never asked). Walter was still lying unconscious on the floor of the complex's lobby at the time, and Alex had already decided on what to do, but he paused on the stairway, looking down on Johnny's corpse.
The nineteen year old boy didn't bear much resemblance if any to the basis of his nickname. He was about 5'4, being moderately well built (not as much as Alex himself or Thomas Diftre, but still respectable) and wearing a white t-shirt and black sweatpants. He'd been wearing black sandals that day for some reason. He had a bit of acne below the right eye, a small cut under the left and the bottom tip of his right earlobe was missing, but otherwise he had a rather plain face some females might call roughly attractive. Said face was darkened a bit now due to the fact that his last moments had been spent gasping for air. His short yellow-brown hair was parted to the left, but otherwise wasn't worth mentioning, and his green eyes were closed. If it weren't for his suddenly darker face and the obvious indentation in his throat, it would look like he had just fallen asleep. Noting how much he wished that were so, Alex crouched down and after some effort (in life the boy had weighed about 170 pounds, all of that dead weight now) lifted the boy onto his shoulder, carrying him outside behind the others who had Walter and putting the two in the same place; in the back seat of an SUV. They had not known who Johnny's parents were, or where they lived or anything like that, so after they deposited Walter on his own porch with a note pinned to his shirt, they had regretfully found a nearby building scheduled for demolition and snuck the corpse inside, where it would be destroyed with the building.
Alex came out of his reverie about a minute after it started, suddenly coming to a start. The past was in the past, and though he could be angry about it he couldn't change it. Shaking his head, he spoke again.

"Sorry about that, Jenna. How about we get away from this trash heap? I don't know about you but I just don't want anything to do with Bathurst right now."

Posted by: Lien Jul 28 2006, 05:54 PM
If Jenna had been near anyone else, you could've bet she would have said some smart remark to Alex's blank stare. Instead, she waited patiently, her facial expression possibly mirroring his own vacant gaze, with the exception of her nose twitching slightly.

She returned his question with a smirk, quickly replaced by at frown at the realization that she needed to return to the hallways for the thing she had wanted in the first place, but was happily side-tracked from.

Jenna lost a bet with one of the other members, which meant she needed money from her locker to pay them. She had a fair amount saved up for something she noticed in a shop window, but in the plan to double it, lost half.

"Uh, just give me one second," she backed away slowly, " One second!"

Her feet pounded the ground in a full on sprint up the stairs and into the hallway, the echo softening as she slowed down and turned right, on the way to her locker.

((Continued in: http://z10.invisionfree.com/SurvivalOfTheF...howtopic=1132))

Posted by: ZigZaggerty Jul 28 2006, 06:02 PM
John got up off the bench dusting off his backside as he did so. They really needed to clean up the school yard around here. He was finally calm and began to think to himself about how he overreacted, his face scrunched up as he began thinking hard if he should skip class or be late.

On one hand his Aunt wouldn’t mind and there was nothing important going on today. But, on the other hand noone could care less.

“I’m gonna skip class today” John said to himself as hopped up the stone steps and went inside the school. Closely behind Jenna.

((Continued in: http://z10.invisionfree.com/SurvivalOfTheF...howtopic=1132))

Posted by: Lien Sep 21 2006, 09:43 PM
((Coming from Skipping Class))

Jenna nearly tripped as she tried to strut away from the fading figure of John, hoping that he hadn't caught the loud slamming sound she made when her hand hit a locker. She shifted her eyes from side to side to make sure no one else had seen, then jogged quickly to the front where she had been standing with Alex moments before.

Little known facts about your characters, Part 2
Alexander Stevens
He has actually never directly killed a person (he has ordered the deaths of some individuals, but never done it himself).

After stabbing a person a couple years before Pregame, he was arrested on grounds of attempted murder, but it was ruled self-defense and he was let go.

His appearance is based almost entirely on Wuying Ren from Shenmue II.

Thomas Diftre
He and the rest of his family are all boxing fans, and Thomas himself wants to be a professional boxer some day.

Every morning at three o'clock he can be seen jogging through Tilles Court. He doesn't do anything illegal or start any fights, he just jogs. Nobody has bothered to ask him why he maintains this habit.

Whenever possible, he also works out at Bathurst's weight room and the gym in the Rec Center.

He gets very angry when racial slurs are used against him.

That's all I have for now.

Who are the fan faves to win this bout of SOTF?
For some reason I think Earnest will take the game. He seems like the type who'll play the game smart, then come out of nowhere and wipe out the competition at the end. I have no intention of Walter winning, so that's not a problem.

Isn't NaNoWriMo November?

Thomas Diftre
Name: Thomas Diftre
Age: 16
Grade: 10
School: Bathurst High, Ms. Guisse’s homeroom, but rarely shows up because he needs to work to support his family (which is one of the poorest in the state). Often competes in illegal street fights for extra money (the cops aren‘t a problem since the fights are held in lawless Tilles Court. Hell, sometimes police officers attend the fights and bet on the winners. This once caused a proprietor of the fights to claim, “This shit ain‘t illegal unless those fucks don‘t like who won. I bet all they‘d do is pay the mortician and console the family if some poor SOB fuckin’ died in one of these fights.”.).
Extra Curricular Activities: Member of a gang called "The Hellbirds". The aforementioned part time job (construction) and street fights.
Description: If one had to sum up his appearance in one word, it would be "tough". Allowing two words would have the questioned most likely say "tough" and "distinctive". His body is built like a heavyweight boxers', heavily muscled with the occasional scar (especially on his knuckles) while standing at exactly six feet tall. His face looks like it is chiseled out of solid diamond, rough and hard-edged. He allows his nearly white blond hair to grow almost to his face, framing his brown eyes that are nearly black, but he is by no means effeminate (and would slug you if you called him that). His fingers are surprisingly thin though, looking out of place compared to the rest of his muscular frame. He tends to wear a white wifebeater t-shirt and black shorts that go down to just above his knees, along with red and white sneakers.
In terms of personality, Thomas is loud, boastful, foul mouthed, and always up for a fight (though unlike what people would assume he‘s not much of a flirt. Sure, he‘ll enjoy a nice bout of sex if he somehow has the time and a condom on hand, but he doesn‘t really have time for flirting. His body type seems to be the type most females find attractive though, so it‘s a both welcome and unwelcome (if that makes sense) annoyance to him.), but at the same time he is completely loyal to his family. He would do anything to better their lives and protect them, even kill if he had to (though of course he hopes that would not happen, he has committed crimes in the past but never gone that far. Mostly street violence and the occasional drug trafficking.).

Clique: The Hellbirds.
Relationships: Alexander Stevens: The leader of the Hellbirds, there is a relationship of mutual trust and respect between the two. It helps that Alex is aware of Thomas' family's plight and often gives him a good share of any money gained in the gang's ventures (though Alexander‘s insistence on referring to him almost exclusively as “Diftre” does annoy him slightly.). Of course, even if he didn’t trust, respect and even like Alex, he’d still be held in line by the fact that Alex is one of the few people in Denton Thomas isn’t sure he could beat in a fight.
Jenna Cassidy: He doesn't have a problem with her, but never really has anything to do with her other than gang activity and a few classes.
Richard Kingston: He's tough, and he had the balls to challenge Alex. Thomas respects him for that, but still considers him an enemy.
Seth Mattlock: Leader of the Bloody Fists. Thomas doesn’t like him and doesn’t trust him.
Erick Rischio: The boy’s completely insane. Thomas can’t help but laugh at his exploits, but he always manages to remind himself that Erick is the enemy. Thomas once almost got in a fight with him, but it was broken up.
Brian Calvert: A tough fighter, Thomas is personally wary of him, but is sure he’d win if the two fought (so far the only Hellbirds vs. Bloody Fists altercations have been Alexander vs. Richard and Jenna vs. Mariavel. Thomas himself almost got into a fight with Erick Rischio once, but nothing came of it). Nevertheless, Thomas would like to fight him some day, and is sure it would “be kind of fun.”.
Mariavel Varella: Thomas finds her attractive, but he won’t do anything about it (he’s afraid he’ll catch an STD and/or that Alex would consider him a traitor if he slept with her.).
Darcy Rose: He doesn’t have much idea who the hell she is, but knows she’s friends with Mariavel and is a Bloody Fist. Naturally, this means he doesn’t like her (though he himself once admitted that he‘s prejudiced because in his opinion Mariavel is the better looking of the two.).
Lavender Heart: Thinks she has a weird name, but ignores her.
Walter Smith: Like Alex, Thomas bears an incredibly strong hatred for Walter, who thinks the entire Diftre family is nothing but derelict trash to be disposed of. If it weren’t for Walter’s political heritage, Thomas would’ve tried to fracture every bone in his body by now and probably succeeded.
Jack Bexley: Bexley is one of the few subjects Thomas disagrees with Alex about. While the latter finds the boy annoying and has half a mind to stab him the instant they’re alone together, Thomas respects him. They both work part time jobs for the same construction firm, so he knows of Jack’s commendable physical strength (of course, Thomas would adamantly deny Jack’s strength is anywhere near his own.), and also respects his mental/whatever strength in not being corrupted by his parentage like Smith was.

Carmen Somerset: He mostly thinks similarly of her as he does Ali, but admits that there is occasionally good/useful information in the mounds of gossip she usually has on her.
Panom Ning~Tom: One of the only people Thomas knows of that he isn’t sure he could beat in a fight.

Ali Grayston: He frankly doesn’t really like her at all. She just comes across to him as a stuck up bitch who hides behind her father, loves causing trouble too much for her own good, and has a broadsword stuck up her ass (he is also aware the term is technically “Stick up his/her ass,”.).

Other: He actually knows how to use the famous “Giant Swing” move from Virtua Fighter, and has done so on a few occasions. He also has some experience with firearms, but he wouldn’t be able to effectively use an assault weapon (with a shotgun he would not be much better, having exclusively used a Glock 17 handgun. His accuracy would stem completely from the spread of the shells.). His loyalty to his family will probably lead into him being a player in the Program, as he’ll likely see the deaths of his classmates as the only way to get back to them, though if he encounters Alex and/or Jenna his reaction might be a bit harder to place. Whatever happens, he’ll probably be one to keep an eye on. The last thing worth noting is that, unlike his parents, he does not have an Armenian accent, though he does know Russian (this usually only surfaces in conversations with his parents, who usually speak to him in Russian). Contrary to his appearance, he does not use steroids (every ounce of muscle on him was the result of hard work on his part, something he‘s very proud of.), and suggesting he does is something that would greatly offend him (and most likely cause him to beat the tar out of whoever suggested it, right there, no matter who was watching.).

Location Status: Normal

Potential Items in Area: None

Corpses in Area:
Brad Wilson
--Location: Ground
--Cause of Death: Shotgun Wound to Head

Caitlin Evans
--Location: Ground (what's left of her, anyway)
--Cause of Death: Spontaneous Combustion

Location Status: Normal

Potential Items in Area: None

Corpses in Area: None

Location Status: Normal

Potential Items in Area: None

Corpses in Area:
Dan Birch
-Location: A House
-Cause of Death: Shotgun wound to midsection.

Darren Oaklen
-Location: A house.
-Cause of Death: A christmas star is emebedded in his skull.

Jackie Kovacs
-Location: Outside, on a road.
-Cause of death: Aggravated stab wound in midsection, possible heart injury.

Eric Silvstedt
-Cause of death: Sharpened broomstick driven into chest cavity.

Location Status: Normal

Potential Items in Area: None

Corpses in Area:
Jaime Dibenidetti
--Location: Front of Building
--Cause of Death: Axed inbetween the eye and is currently topless with dried up sperm tracing down her chest.