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Day By Day
OOC: Sorry about the very short post, but I'm just not feeling it right now, and need to get Darnell out. I'll make it up to y'all later.
IC:

Darnell could be heard letting out a small, barely audible sigh after Boxer hit the ground and passed into unconsciousness, his massive hands cradling a bleeding nose that very well may have been broken. Now that the sheer anger had left him, all that was left was a sense of strong fatigue and an element of shame, along with having a bit of a headache.

Damn it, sorry Dan. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why couldn't I control myself?

The only consolation to Darnell as he stepped over Dan and pulled his sword out of Eduardo's torso, forcibly averting his eyes from the red blood covering the blade and making a mental note to wash it when he got the chance, was that the overcast weather made things much cooler, and therefore more tolerable. Still, he wanted nothing more to do with this fucking airfield, and found himself wanting to leave as soon as possible, so with a grim expression and a small prayer asking the Lord for forgiveness on his lips, he picked up his pack and carefully stepped around the bodies strewn around the runway, heading back to the jungle. He still had friends to find, after all, and anywhere was better than the airfield.

I'm not a monster.

OOC: Continued elsewhere.

Away
Gah, sorry for the delay to anyone who's been waiting for me to post. Past few days I've barely been able to get on, let alone write anything. Just been too sick. Impossible to concentrate on a post when it takes all you've got to not throw up on the keyboard. I'll try to get the needed posts up, but I thought my lack of activity recently warranted explanation.

Edit: Also, with Bukowski's post in mind, am I supposed to be posting as Guy and his other characters or something? I would have, but I'm not sure about it. Sorry if that fucked anyone over with the post order.

Project: Wiki
Solitair
May 28 2008, 10:33 PM
Heh. Sorry. I'm new on the forum and also a space cadet. Familiarity with SOTF contestants =/= familiarity with the people behind them. :D

As for your requests, Kyle, I'm positive that Alan's bio is finished already, and the others are from V2, I'm guessing, which I'm not focusing on right now.

The wiki won't let me edit it now. Is this what it means by 'partial downtime'?

Evaluations left:
David Jackson (written but not posted)
Amanda Jones

Yep, Alan's was finished, didn't realize until I had checked some time after posting that. The others are from v2. Also, yeah, seems like nobody can edit until Rob brings the server back up. Looks like the temp server our wiki was moved to is read-only.

Project: Wiki
Solitair
May 24 2008, 02:17 AM
Riser asked me not to edit Hawley Faust's game evaluation, since he wants to do it himself. Does anyone else have any requests?

...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

*catches breath* Gods, you people kill me. Riser is a SHE! Hehehehe, "he wants to do it himself"... :lol:

Though since you mentioned requests, if you could help me out with Dan Brent's eval, Alan Shinwrath's, and Seth Mattlock's, it'd be appreciated.

Project: Wiki
Hey, "genius", that repair's scheduled for the 23rd. Don't get smug when you're completely wrong.

Project: Wiki
No shit.

Day By Day
Something snapped in Darnell when Dan shot up, his features twisted in anger, and grabbed Darnell, screaming in his face. Whereas most would be terrified by having Dan "Boxer" Carvalho in their face yelling at them, his breath filling their nostrils while he looked like he was a second away from strangling them, Darnell found himself getting very annoyed. Angry, even. At first he was surprised when the giant spun around and grabbed him, for a moment being too stunned to do anything as Dan's outrage made Darnell's own feelings more pointed. He had almost never seen him this angry, and never at all so angry at him, so he found himself shocked for a moment.

Unfortunately for Dan, he would find Darnell would soon snap out of that. His frustration at Dan apparently not listening to him clashed with his own remorse, joining with him being startled by Dan suddenly grabbing him as he did. Darnell Butler had always been a fighter, and held the belief that nobody had a right to put their hands on him for no reason. His jaw started to clench, his teeth grinding together as he closed his hands into fists.

This guy's starting to piss me off...

This was only the second time in two years that Darnell Butler had found himself getting truly angry at anybody, which was a surprise considering all the stress life had been putting on him before the school trip. Without warning, Boxer's attack brought on the fury that he had spent so many years trying to get rid of entirely, the rage that was just as much of a reason for his nickname of "The Bull" as his football prowess was.

"Shut the fuck up, Boxer," he would say suddenly, before Boxer could stop his rant, his head snapping up so his glare would be apparent as he made eye contact with Boxer, the snarl in stark contrast to Boxer's shouts, "You have no fucking idea what the hell is going on! You NEVER had any idea WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON! You've always been too stupid! What the fuck was I supposed to fucking do, huh?! Sit there and LET EDUARDO KILL ME?! You barely even understand the words coming out of your mouth, so shut up and GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF ME, YOU WORTHLESS INCREDIBLE HULK REJECT!"

Boxer would get no warnings, no chances to respond either physically or verbally as Darnell twisted his hips and torso, throwing out his left arm in a thundering hook aimed at Boxer's liver. Anticipating that this would cause Boxer's head to move forward while his left retracted, Darnell shot his own head towards him, aiming the hard bone of his forehead at the bridge of Boxer's nose, his hope being to break it. He didn't care if the nose actually broke or not though, immediately retracting his head and leaning back slightly as he brought his right up and around in a huge haymaker aimed at Boxer's temple, a roar escaping his lips as he attacked.

The result if all three attacks landed? Boxer would be out cold, and if he wasn't lucky his nose would be shattered. Darnell never fucked around when he was in a fight.

72 Hours: Uprising
bwort

72 Hours: Uprising
bwooooooooooooooooooooooort

Day By Day
When Dan slowed his approach in response to Darnell raising his hand, Darnell was half surprised and half not. It was almost something of a conditioned response for the man, but at the same time the pace at which he had been marching towards Darnell and Eduardo's body had made Darnell think Dan wouldn't think twice about trying to walk through him. Another thing Darnell hadn't expected as he lowered his hand, though, was for Dan to suddenly alter his path so that he was walking at Darnell's right side. Understanding that the leviathan was trying to move around him, and seeing the look of focus on his face, Darnell casually stepped to his left to move out of the way. Turning around to see Dan, he saw him kneeling next to Eduardo's body, his hand on the dead boy's forehead, noticing the pooling blood everywhere even less than Darnell had when Simon died.

Why is he so affected by this, after he bullied Eduardo so much in school?

He felt a bit ashamed for even idly thinking such a thing; all death should carry such an effect. No matter who you were, how well you knew or got along with the deceased, there was no excuse to have no reaction to someone being killed. Was he already getting desensitized? No, that couldn't be it, he still felt nauseous about the whole affair, and the nagging guilt in the back of his head had yet to go away. He found himself wanting to say something to Dan, something that would comfort him, but he couldn't think of anything.

It's my fault, anyway, what fuckin' right do I have to try to help?

By now rain had started to fall some, landing around and on both Dan and Darnell, washing away the blood from some places and soaking them both. In some cases it stung a bit, and it was soaking through his clothing, but due to the fact that it cooled him down and was getting rid of the smell of blood Darnell found himself being grateful. The noise and occasional thunderclap was distracting him from his idle thoughts, though, and just before Dan spoke one of the aforementioned thunderclaps rang out, causing Darnell to almost not hear his question.

"Dan, I...I really don't know what to tell you, other than the truth. I d-don't know why Eduardo did what he did, but he attacked me, wanted to kill me. I had no choice but to defend myself, and almost before I knew it I had stabbed him...it was like a reflex. Fuck, I didn't want to hurt him, Dan, you know just as well as anyone else I would never hurt anyone if I had a choice. God...I fucked up. I fucked up so fucking badly..."

OOC: Didn't have many other ideas, but at least it's a post. Sorry.

Hi!
And none of us actually exist.

Dante Cooper
Name: Dante Cooper
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Grade: 12
School: Southridge
Hobbies and Interests: Baseball team, Mixed Martial Arts, videogames, Pro-Wrestling, other forms of Wrestling (most grappling arts amaze him, with how simply even the slightest jerk can be used to cripple a man), history, parties, drinking contests, hitting on as many hot girls as he can, and parlour tricks (especially that one where you take a knife, someone's hand, and stab it between their fingers really fast, trying to avoid hitting the fingers themselves) are his most prominent.

Appearance: Tall and invariably thin as he tips the scales at 6'3 and 162 pounds, Dante sports a wiry, but tensely muscled look, somewhat along the lines of an extra-tall Bruce Lee. His muscles are tight and well-defined, like corded rope, throughout his body, and his stomach sports a six-pack of tight abs. Generally speaking, his body is particularly fit, though this is hardly out of the ordinary for most of the more athletic students, especially fighters, and his build tends to remind people of some of Southridge's more skilled fighters. His hair is dark blonde, almost brown, and always styled in a messily spiked pattern, pinapple-like in appearance. There's never any rhyme or reason to the spikes other than that it makes him look cool, he just puts some gel or spray in and manipulates it until it's spiked up in a way he likes the look of. At first glance his facial features are youthful, but otherwise not very distinctive, but that's until you notice the energetic spark that always seems to be in his dark blue eyes and the wild grin practically glued to his face. He has a rich tan on top of it all, completing the appearance of a young man who is constantly full of life and youthful energy. His facial hair consists of a moustache, a soul patch, and the beginnings of a beard or goatee on the bottom of his chin; oddly enough, these instances of facial hair are black in colour.

For his clothing, Dante is a casual but wildly varied dresser. His clothes tend to be very colourful, but almost never the same twice unless he's in his baseball uniform. The type of outfit he picks most often, however, is a white hoodie with a dragon design on it, a yellow tanktop under that, a pair of light grey sweatpants with a black stripe down the sides, socks, and his lucky blue/black Air Jordan shoes. He wore this on the trip.

Biography: The beginning of Dante Cooper's life was not very interesting. He was born to Alex and Brianna Cooper, who sat somewhere on the line between "upper middle class" and "very wealthy/elite of society", he found himself in a situation where he lived in luxury/comfort, but not where he never had to work for anything. Still, his parents raised him well, even if they spoiled him a bit too much. Dante was always a well behaved kid, if surprisingly energetic even when he was supposedly tired. For a while he seemed to be the typical All-American kid; a Little League baseball team, a good family, pleasant demeanour, and excellent grades. The years went by uneventfully, though not unhappily, and aside from his position as second baseman on his baseball teams and growing reputation of "that crazily acrobatic kid who never gets tired" he continued to fly under the radar up in to middle school, gaining in popularity and reputation, but not necessarily reknown.

It was at the end of middle school that he would truly find one of his niches. The UFC had started to make Mixed Martial Arts a new phenomenon in the country, so when he and a bunch of his friends passed by a rough-looking building with the words "William Fletcher's School of Mixed Martial Arts" written on the sign, Dante walked in on a dare. The eponymous Will Fletcher who greeted him at the door was not only a massive man, but a genius both in the martial arts and in intellect. Sizing him up after Dante informed him that he intended to join the gym and become an MMA fighter, William laughed at the wad of cash in Dante's hand and waved over a boy around Dante's size. "First session's free," he informed Dante before telling him to get into the octagon with the strange boy, who he referred to as Aaron Durza. After being given a mouthpiece and a pair of gloves, he found Durza explaining what was happening to him; it was a sparring match, to see what Dante could do, something Will did with all the newbies who came to the gym.

"Ready...FIGHT!"

At Will's words, and the ringing of the bell, the match was on. At this time Dante had been in a few brawls, but despite his valiant effort this still made him no match for the much more experienced opponent he was in with. Aaron was too fast, too strong, and too skilled for Dante, even though no matter what he did it seemed he just couldn't knock Dante out or take him down for a submission. He was being beaten red and raw, but Dante simply refused to give up, trying his hardest to return every blow Aaron sent. Somehow making it through the first round, Dante relished the one minute rest period after the brutal five minutes previous. He spent the second round trying to be defensive, but found it being thwarted at almost every turn. Aaron would feint, or slip away, or goad him into attacking, or simply kick him in the legs and attack his head when his hands dropped. Three minutes in, Dante found himself dropping to his knees, but as Aaron moved in to finish him he found a surge of anger take over, and got up with a right uppercut that caught Aaron on the jaw, sending him reeling. It was the break Dante needed, and he pressed the attack, raining punches and kicks and elbows down on Aaron in an attempt to keep him from regaining any momentum. It almost looked like Dante would turn the fight around, especially when he somehow caught a roundhouse Aaron seemingly threw out of desperation.

That's when Aaron turned the attack back against him, though. As soon as he caught the leg, he felt a haymaker crash into the side of his head, taking away his strength as the leg was pulled out of his grasp and he was forced into a Thai clinch. A knee too fast for him to see coming shot into his face, knocking his head up just in time for the last thing he saw to be the left hook that signalled his defeat. He spent several minutes sprawled out on the octagon floor before he could be revived, the first thing he saw when he regained consciousness being Will and Aaron hovering over him.

"Oh, good, he's waking up," Aaron had said with a sigh, which caused Dante to notice that he apparently had a bloody nose "I was worried for a second."

"Yeah, you were out for a while, kid," Will had a grin that contrasted Aaron's worried look, though, as he helped Dante up, "You lost, but that was impressive, especially for someone who just showed up. It's been a while since I've seen someone turn a match with Aaron around like that.Your brawling won't do any good in an octagon, but I might just make a fighter out of you."

Will went on to explain that he had already devised a style to start training Dante in, and that he honestly hadn't expected him to beat Durza. Aaron Durza was an amateur MMA fighter who had already had twenty fights, all of them victories, and some of the victories being from having won a local tournament a year or two back. Dante's training would begin the next day, but for the moment Will sent him home, due to the fact that he had taken such a beating in the spar. It was made final after he talked with his parents that night, as they took it well after a moment. It was Summer, so he would have plenty of time to devote to training.

The next day was a turning point for Dante Cooper. The beating the day prior had been very painful and even more humiliating, but he soldiered through the exhausting nature of his training with all his resolve, refusing to let the loss make him give up. He knew MMA was something he wanted to do, and thought to prove himself, to become just as good as Will said Durza was. The easiest way to fulfill his desire to be worth something in life, to amount to anything, was to become a great fighter, and he threw everything he had into every session. Day after day he worked as hard as he could, and then trained more when he had time at home. The days and weeks passed, and he started to improve drastically in both fitness and fighting skill. When the baseball season rolled by he made an effort to fit both sports into his schedule, and eventually balanced it out so that neither his baseball nor MMA skills suffered. His first fight was 10 June, in his Freshman year, and he completely annihilated his opponent, leaving him sprawled out and bloody on the octagon floor.

The thrill of victory proved addicting to the boy, and he went into the break training even harder. His next fight came in the middle of August, and while it was slightly tougher he came out on top again. The next school year started and his popularity boomed, though so did friendly and not-so-friendly challenges to fights. These people rarely lasted long, though he twice found himself on the losing end. One of the people involved in those defeats was Darnell Butler, who'd eventually take the title of "best in Southridge", having defeated him by turning Dante's wrestling attempts on him and putting him in a hold he didn't know how to break out of, forcing him to tap or lose his arm. Studying, training, making friends, and hanging out/partying took up his time, and he started to make a name for himself academically and as a member of the baseball team along with his MMA. Fights started coming more regularly through the year, so as by the time his Junior year had started he'd already had his eleventh fight (though to be fair his eleventh fight was the day before the school year started up).

By that point, people were starting to find it odd that Dante was still as cheerful as he had always been, but he paid it no mind. Life was going great for him, just about perfectly, why shouldn't he be happy? It was true that part of it was a ruse, but it was also his genuine disposition. Way he saw it, if someone didn't trust or like him because he seemed "too cheerful", they could go fuck themselves. It was with this attitude that he went into Junior and Senior years, blowing through grades, social affairs, and fighting, up to and including sneaking a large bottle of vodka onto his bus for the school trip to share with his buddies on the baseball team. Over the next few days he would realize just how much he needed that drink...


Advantages: Quick, skilled, and decepitvely strong, Dante is a dangerous opponent in hand to hand, especially when you take his MMA training into account. He is very acrobatic, and when he fights he doesn't hesitate to use this to his advantage, catching opponents off guard and landing devastating hits from unexpected angles (he sometimes boasts that he once KOed an opponent by backflipping over his head and kicking him in the back of the neck, and since this is almost his signature move people have little reason not to believe him). He's well known enough that the entire class has at least heard of him, and popular enough that most of the class likes him, so allies will come easily. The people at TV Tropes would call him a prime example of Obfuscating Stupidity; he would like everyone to believe he's nothing more than a kind hearted, fun loving goofball who's happy as long as you give him a pretty girl, a baseball game, or an MMA fight, but he can be a sharply intelligent, calculating, and even downright devious person when he needs to be. This means he can either lure people in with his charming personality, and then snap the trap closed and kill his way off the island, or rally a group together to take Danya and his sick game down. Much like season one's David Jackson and Aaron Redfield, he is a good shot and has very sharp reflexes, very useful even if he doesn't get a powerful gun like Jackson did. He still has the vodka bottle from the bus hidden, so unless the terrorists confiscated that too he can take it and smash it into an opponent's skull if he gets really desperate. Dante is very easily annoyed, and has always had the quirk of having never learned to see anything wrong with simply getting rid of anyone who annoys him too much, whether it be storing drugs in a player's locker, or putting a gun to someone's head and firing. He likes a lot of his classmates, but it's just that he's too selfish for the idea of willingly dying instead of fighting to survive to really click with him. He's the only person in the school who could say "I'm an MMA fighter" and be telling the truth, so his fame has the edge of intimidation to it. Nobody wants to pick a fight with someone who's been in the octagon and emerged victorious.

Disadvantages: He isn't as strong as he is fast, so a more power-based fighter could overwhelm him. On that note, his thin frame means that if he gets hit hard, he's going to feel it more than a more muscular person would. Too much of a ladies' man for his own good, if an attractive girl tries to use her looks against him he'll fall for it much more easily than most guys. As tough as he is, he underestimates his classmates and overestimates himself, meaning that if a classmate does something unexpected they might find themselves defeating him more easily than they expected. Even though he's a naturally talented marksman, he's never actually fired a gun before, and has no medical training. He has as many friends as enemies, and though he tends to keep even his closest friends at arms reach, these people may go after him, especially girlfriends he's ditched as soon as he was done having sex with them.

Friendly Critiques
Seriously, you guys have your own topic for bickering about pairings, let the newbies get their critiques.

Friendly Critiques
Don't we have like, thirty threads just like this? Eh, they were all for pregame, so I guess it's okay.

Day By Day
There was nothing Darnell could do as his blade forced its way through Eduardo's ribs, impaling his heart and killing him almost instantly, though there was time for one smug (but bloody) grin on the boy's part. The only thing that held the husk of flesh that used to be Eduardo Trinidad-Villa up was Darnell's own grip on the fifty-five inch (forty one of those inches were the blade) Claymore, and Darnell found that grip releasing itself after he shuddered almost involuntarily from sheer horror. The sword still sticking out of his heart, Eduardo's corpse fell to the earth with a vaguely wet "thud", still at last. Darnell did not go to take the sword out just yet, his hands shaking as he gasped for breath.

"No...God damn it, no! Why can't I stop? I want to stop killing, why won't you let me stop, God?! Please, j-just let me stop...why am I doing this? I just want to go home."

Muttering to himself wouldn't do any good for anyone, he knew that fully well, but he couldn't help it any more than he could help that he was now three times a murderer. Three times, someone had attacked him for little if any reason; he had lived all three times, and all three times the other man did not. It wasn't right, he hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, he just wanted to live. He wanted to be back home again. He wanted to be enjoying himself on the Senior Trip like his class was supposed to be doing now, trying to get up the courage to ask Kallie out or something after the trip, hanging out with Keith and the rest of his friends, getting annoyed at the latest of Guy's antics, practicing football with Evelyn and the rest of the team...hell, he'd have even picked breaking up fights and studying for finals over this torture. Simon had been his friend (at least in Darnell's eyes), while he'd never had a problem with Brent or Eduardo, so why did he have to kill them? Before he realized it (things seemed to keep happening before he realized them, lately), his eyes started to cloud up, and his hands raised up to rub them dry.

No, don't let yourself cry. Real men don't cry. There are cameras everywhere, don't let Danya and the bastards who work for him get that satisfaction. Don't let them win.

However, before he could totally break down or get sick again, he heard Daniel "Boxer" Carvalho scream out, and turned to see the enraged giant storming towards him. There was still a bit of wetness to his eyes from the tears he was keeping trapped in their ducts, betraying the neutral expression he met Dan's gaze with by showing the turmoil in his mind, but there wasn't time to worry about that now. He wasn't afraid of Dan, especially since the few times they had come to blows had resulted in sound defeats for Dan, but Darnell knew he could be tricky to deal with. That applied even more when the man was this clearly enraged. Raising one hand so the palm faced Dan, he called out.

"Dan, I didn't want to kill Eduardo. I...I had no choice, you have to believe me on that. He would've killed me, Dan! Settle down, we can talk about this, I don't want to fight."

Darnell Butler may not have wanted to fight, but part of him knew that if Dan tried anything, he wouldn't have any choice. He was staring the leviathan in the eye in an instance where he was most dangerous, especially since he wasn't very bright to begin with. He lowered his hand slowly, his eyes still on the rapidly approaching Dan Carvalho, wondering if the man could be reasoned with again.

If not, I'll have to take him down.

Darnell couldn't help but gulp a little at the prospect. No matter how this ended, he wasn't going to like it; it was too late to avoid violence entirely. The three corpses around him were ample proof of that.

Day By Day
"Company"? That's what he calls it?

Darnell visibly grimaced as Eduardo made light of his two kills, his expression going cold as he tried to force down the rising anger in his gut. The boy nodded at Darnell's statement about his leg being better, the acknowledgement almost making it seem like Eduardo actually didn't mean any harm for the moment. Still, he found his left hand moving onto the claymore's hilt along with his right as he raised it into a lazily held defensive position, just in case.

This kid tried to murder me, he can't mean well now all of a sudden.

Darnell's gut feeling about Eduardo would be proven right, as the boy snapped the hedgeclippers shut and quickly stepped forward, stabbing the closed blades at Darnell's stomach. There was no way out of this fight, and as soon as Eduardo attacked Darnell felt his body start to move, instinct taking over. Sharply stepping back and to the left, causing Eduardo's blow to miss, Darnell chambered the sword back almost as a karateka would a punch, the blade righting itself horizontally before being thrusted forward at Eduardo's chest. Acting on reflex, he had aimed the attack at a weak point between the ribs, where if the stab landed it would pierce straight through into Eduardo's heart. There was no time to think it through, no time to restrain himself, his body just acted on its own.

Hey, wait, where am I aiming?! No, STOP!

He couldn't stop himself, it was too late. The blade was already moving over Eduardo's hedgeclippers, towards his exposed side. Darnell found himself struggling to avoid closing his eyes before impact.

Day By Day
It was good that Darnell finished vomiting when he did, coughing and wiping his mouth with his left hand as he picked the sword back up with his right, because just after doing that he heard the tell-tale sound of sneakers moving through asphalt. With a sigh, Darnell straightened back up and turned around to face whoever was there. He really wasn't in the mood for any more surprise encounters, but found himself glad at least that it wasn't a player with a gun behind him; they would've fired by now. Of course, he wasn't expecting to see Eduardo Trinidad-Villa behind him, holding Dan's shield in one hand and Darnell's original hedgeclippers in the other. That was odd, but seeing as he saw no blood on the hedgeclippers, in stark contrast to the blood covering his claymore's blade, he knew Dan was still alive.

Well isn't this fuckin' convenient...

Eduardo looked like he was in rough shape, bruised and scuffed and very dirty, a very frustrated look on his face that clashed with the tired or mournful expression Darnell himself bore. Eduardo had been the first player Darnell encountered, though judging by what had happened with Dan Brent not two minutes prior he clearly wasn't the last, and it was oddly fitting that they would meet again so soon after Darnell had bloodied his hands. Truth be told, Eduardo was one of the last people Darnell wanted to see right now, but he supposed there was no choice.

"What do you want, Eduardo? I'd be lying if I said I was very keen on seeing you again at the moment."

That was the only thing he could think of to say to the other man, his grip on the claymore tightening. Eduardo had proved two days or so ago that he wanted nothing to do with the idea of peacefully co-existing with Darnell, mainly by trying to kill him and almost being crippled for it, so Darnell could be forgiven for assuming Eduardo wanted to start something again.

Heh...he looks kinda funny, trying to hold a shield in one hand and a pair of hedgeclippers big enough to take someone's head off in the other.

"Still," Darnell added with a small chuckle, nodding towards Ed's recently-injured leg, "it looks like your leg got better."

Still not sure what the boy wanted, Darnell kept his stance neutral, his eyes meeting Eduardo's.

The Third Announcement
It's a bit late, we apologize, but hopefully he'll be dead before the next hour.

Day By Day
((Dan continued from Lady So Divine))

It had all happened way too fast. If anyone had blinked, they would have missed the end of Simon Wood's life. It was just too fast, plain and simple. At first, Darnell didn't even realize he had stabbed Simon. He had gone down, scrambled for his sword, and raised it to try and keep Simon at bay. Then there was a terrible wet sound, almost like meat being cut, but not quite. For all too brief a time, Simon Wood and Darnell Butler made eye contact, but the moment was shattered when Simon appeared to notice before Darnell the location of his blade. He looked down.

So did Darnell.

Oh God...

A good part of the Claymore's blade had found itself stabbed deeply into Simon's abdomen, most likely shredding at least a few vital organs on the way in. Dark red blood flowed down the cold steel like a macabre river, making a path down the blade towards the hilt, and eventually to Darnell's hand. All he could do was stare at the result of his folly in surprise and sheer horror, alternating his glance between the wound and Simon himself. There was an unspoken apology in Darnell's eyes and on Darnell's lips, but he couldn't force his mouth to open. Simon staggered back, off of the blade, and immediately fell to the ground. Immediately after, Simon uttered an apology. Then there was nothing. Darnell pushed himself to his feet with a moan and a shake of his swimming head before casting an almost desperate glance at Madison and then Simon, but there was still nothing. No mistake.

Simon Wood was dead. And Darnell had killed him.

YOU'RE fucking sorry?! I...oh my God, I stabbed you, Simon! Shit, I should be the one apologizing! I fucked up, and now you're dead!

Darnell had known Simon. They had played football before Simon's accident, and even though Darnell eventually left him behind playing-wise after it, he had always tried to be nicer to Simon from then on. He could only have imagined how horrible the boy felt to have his dream snatched from him by such unfortunate circumstances, and he'd known that if he were in Simon's place he may have just let his life collapse in on itself. He didn't know if he could have kept going as Simon did, which gave him a sort of newfound respect for him. Of course, no matter how much Darnell had tried to reach him, he'd always found himself rebuffed.

Little did Darnell know, and now he would never know, that this was because Simon had resented him ever since his arm had been destroyed. It didn't matter to him, he had still killed Simon. By accident, he tried to reason to himself, but it was still a killing. Made all the more ironic by the fact that Darnell was trying to seek out his surviving team mates. Needless to say, he felt like a traitor.


Oddly enough, the guilt of Darnell Butler only lasted a second. His emotional anguish, which he had assumed would strike him down instantly should he ever kill someone, was only present for a fleeting moment. This was enough, though. Like an attack from a viper, it came fast and hard, striking in an instant and leaving no chance for reprisal. Though he wasn't wounded or sick, there was suddenly a great pain in his chest as if he were being torn apart from the inside, but then as he gasped out for air it faded, replaced by a sudden literal feeling of pure nothingness. All he could do was stare blankly at Simon's body, his sword limply hanging from his hand as Madison reacted. While she screamed and raved, Darnell only stared, as she begged him to wake up and stop kidding around he could only look on with total shock. When Madison pointed the laser dazzler at him, the only thing he did was look up to meet her eyes, his eyes wider than dishplates, his mouth moving in a desperate attempt to answer her question. No matter how much he opened and closed his mouth though, no words came out, just as no thoughts passed through his usually bustling mind. No words came, no thoughts formed, there was just a sense of oppressive nothingness filling his whole being. A crushing void replacing everything that made Darnell who he was.

After a few seconds, Madison ran off, but it felt like the girl had been standing before him for years. Not even turning his head to watch her go, as it felt too heavy, Darnell blankly took a handful of his shirt, using it to wipe Simon's blood off of the blade. There would still be stains to act as a taunting reminder of what he did, but if Darnell didn't get at least some of the blood off the blade might rust. Still expressionless, he slowly walked towards the body, his eyes on the slowly pooling blood that had once flowed through a living boy's veins. Not caring that the blood would soak his pants, Darnell sat next to Simon's body, his legs crossed, looking first at his cast, then at his face. His eyes were closed, as if he were peacefully sleeping. Setting the sword down in front of him and placing his pack to his side, Darnell placed his left hand where Simon's jugular would be, desperately looking for a pulse. Maybe he wasn't dead, maybe he had just been knocked out, seriously hurt but still saveable.

There was no pulse, Simon couldn't be saved. Darnell's head went into his hands, a strong feeling of misery joining the emptiness.

As Darnell's eyes opened and he looked up to see the stormy skies above, he realized he didn't know when he had fallen asleep. He also realized that he had probably missed the morning announcements, but that was fortunate; hearing his own name might've crushed him with the guilt. His head had been resting on the ground, covered by his hands, and his rear felt damp from the fact that he was sitting in a pool of Simon's blood. Rubbing his eyes with a confused groan, he leaned a bit to his right, looking to check his bag. Somehow he had fallen asleep in the open and lived through the rest of the night, he figured he should check to at least make sure nobody had robbed him. The sword was still in front of him, so that was a good sign, but he didn't know if anyone had taken his things from his bag.

Darnell, it would turn out, had gotten lucky. If his lean had been timed one second later, he would've been impaled through the back of the neck. As it were, he saw the spear shoot right past him to his left, where his neck had just been. His eyes widening, his right hand shot forwards to grab the hilt of his claymore, and out of reflex he felt himself turn around with a slight spin, rising to his feet, the sword swinging around with his movement.

In the split second of eye contact they shared, Darnell Butler didn't even recognize Daniel Brent before the blade of his claymore cleaved through the weak flesh in his neck, slicing his head off above the collar. The boy's head flew a bit to the right from the force of the blow, while the rest of the body fell backwards, a veritable geyser of blood spraying out even as the corpse dropped to the earth. Staggering backwards from surprise, Darnell almost tripped over his own bag before he stabilized himself.

"Who the fuck was THAT?!"

Darnell's second murder had been so sudden, that Darnell had yet to really notice that he had done it, and indeed he hadn't even gotten a good enough look at his attacker to realize who they were. A look at the corpse, from which the blood still flowed heavily, revealed that they were very small, thin and frail in appearance. This wasn't enough to be sure just who the person was, though, so out of morbid curiosity Darnell approached the head, which had settled about half a foot to the right. Reaching the head, which was lying on its side so the front was facing the opposite direction from Darnell, he nudged it with his foot so that he could see the face.

"No...not him..."

Darnell would've recognized the rat-like features of Daniel Brent anywhere, and the fact that said features were now separated from the rest of his body, the wild eyes frozen in a surprised expression, didn't make it an exception. He hadn't known Daniel very well, but had always gotten along with him, the boy always being polite to Darnell and sometimes downright nice, along with having a surprisingly acute sense of humour. Still, there had always been a strong sense of sadness about him, as if he spent the entirety of every day terminally depressed. Darnell had never heard the boy talk about himself in any way that wasn't self deprecating, and he'd always seemed rather pitiful. He'd never had anything against Dan, though he referred to him as "Brent" to avoid confusing him with Daniel "Boxer" Carvalho in conversation, but almost before he knew what had happened he had been attacked by him and killed him.

Though, considering how he's acted at times, maybe he's happier dead than he was alive. Christ...what a horrible thing to think.

It was just then that he was struck by how powerful the stench of blood had gotten; it was like being suckerpunched by someone twice his size. Darnell tried to restrain himself, but he couldn't help it; after a few seconds, he doubled over, dropping his sword and clutching his stomach with his left hand as he vomited, though the contents were mostly liquid due to how little he had eaten in the past four days.


MALE STUDENT NO.35 - DANIEL BRENT - DECEASED.

The Third Announcement
I was planning on waiting until I was done with the post before I linked, but that's not really an option, sorry. Dan's going to die here.
Edit: Dan's dead. Eduardo will be dead once Laz GETS HIS ARSE ONLINE. :P