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Don't Panic
Maxie grinned sheepishly, rubbing at the cut on her face absent-mindedly.

"That I did... ehehehe... y'oughta' blame my mom for that one. She was always callin' me it. Guess I sorta' ... picked up on it," Maxie, admittedly, still wasn't quite sure precisely why she had come out with that. It was something her mother said a lot, for sure, but since when had Maxie ever spoken like her mother? The only person she knew who sounded anything like her was that guy she had been in a group with - albeit briefly some time earlier... Keith Jackson.

Maxie didn't like the looks of what was going on. Her offhand comment had been, she knew, at least partially down to nervousness. Maxie wasn't really the type to look out for other people - she was far too independent for that. The way she figured it, either you took help when it was given, and offered it in reciprocation, or neither took it, or were under any obligation to give it. Oh sure, she'd help a friend out every now and then, but watching somebody's back... that was another thing entirely.

The only person Maxie had ever been watched over by was her older brother, Lucas. Albeit under good deal of protest. The fact of the matter was: Maxie hated the feeling of being protected. There wouldn't always be somebody around to look out for her, and when that time came, Maxie didn't want to be screwed over due to reliance on others. Nobody made it nowhere under anything less than their own steam.

Maxie's thoughts were interrupted when Sharon spoke up. She listened to what the other girl had to say, then shook her head, laughing derisively.

“I wasn't half a minute behind Madi, there ain't no way in hell she did that before I made it here. Ya as wrong as can be. 'Sides...” Maxie walked over to the body, inspecting it, pushing down a feeling of nausea. “No way is this... fresh, ta put it blunt. Been here for at least a coupla hours,” Maxie turned to Sharon, now standing between Madi and Kulikov, shooting her a grin. “No dice girl, whodunnit ain't that chick,”

Roll Call
Jun 29 2008, 04:55 AM
Indeed. Inactivity is a bitch now. Been around, just haven't been visiting as much. Probably will get back to posting when activity climbs up.

Post you ass, I was enjoying that fight :P

Mid-Month Rolls
And now Keiji is like, dead and stuff.

But I'm a creep
((Hookay, time to finish this, as you know GMing approved by Theo...))

Keiji was unfortunate enough to have his trailing arm – complete with sword, strike Elizabeth across the face. In all fairness, it was only really a glancing blow, but Keiji was, admittedly, heavily muscled. Not to mention wielding the broken off hilt of a sabre. The jagged end of the blade still attached to the hilt drew a red line across Elizabeth's cheek, blood welling up almost immediately. The cut, coupled with the impact from the back of Keiji's hand, was enough to knock Elizabeth straight off her feet, falling to the ground with an unpleasant bump.


Lenny's heart almost stopped when he saw Lizzy fall. He had used her distraction as an opportunity to attack again, but he hadn't been fast enough. Keiji had chanced to swing around, and had ended up striking her across the face. Lenny saw blood as his sister fell, and although he felt concern for her, he was primarily consumed with rage. He had promised to protect Elizabeth – and now she had been hurt. Lenny couldn't exactly go back in time to prevent the injury from occurring, but, on the other hand, he could extract vengeance...


Keiji let out a cry of pain as Lenny brutally tore his hatchet from the sizeable wound he had already inflicted in his shoulder. Even through a haze of panic, Keiji knew that this was as serious as it got. Instinctively he dived forward, rolling on his unhurt shoulder, hearing a swish as Lenny swiped at the space where he had been just moments before.

Yeah... my evade skill trumps your accuracy stat...

The basketballer turned immediately – and deliberately, falling on his rear end in order to avoid another lunge from Lenny. The boy was crazed, slashing and swinging his weapon like a madman, his face contorted with rage. Keiji quickly executed a backward roll, grunting as pressure was put on his wound, blood soaking through his already drenched jersey. The rain added a whole new dimension to the fight, restricting visibility and making the concrete underfoot somewhat slippery.

Man, it's like the beginning of that game, except I don't have a gunblade, I got a broken sabre. Least Lenny can't fireball me, with like, kaPOW and stuff! Man, that would hurt.

Keiji scrambled to his feet, ducking yet another attack from Lenny. Instead of again retreating, he chose to close the gap, going low and driving a shoulder into Lenny's chest, knocking him from his feet, before jumping back.


“Lenny... why? Killing is like, wrong and stuff... you don't need to...”

Lenny picked himself back up off the ground, glowering at Keiji. He cast an anxious glance to one side, and relief flooded through him when he saw Elizabeth slowly getting up. Lenny returned to Keiji, anger on his features. That moron would pay.

“You okay sis?”

“I-I'm fine Lenny, just a little shook up,”

“Good,” Lenny looked to Keiji again, pointing the hatchet at him. “Why play? For her, Keiji. Elizabeth is everything to me, and now, you've hurt her. Are you ready to face the consequences of that?” Keiji opened his mouth, looking as though he was about to speak, but Lenny was already moving, swinging straight for Keiji's neck with the hatchet.

Keiji took a step back, moving easily into a Iaido stance, before striking – a diagonal slash, the broken sabre blade still having enough sharpness to cut through Lenny's shirt and slice a bloody furrow across his chest. Not deep, but a bad enough wound to send Lenny reeling, gritting his teeth with the pain.

He moved so fast!... How? ... Of course, he's a trained fighter. If the sword hadn't broken... I would be in trouble.

Elizabeth, concerned, moved to Lenny's side, but he waved her away.

“It's all right Liz. I'm not hurt. Let... let me handle this,”


Keiji gazed at the blood dripping off the jagged end of the broken weapon, self-disgust at the forefront of his mind.

I attacked him.

That was wrong.

H-he's doing this for his sister.

That's ... good right?

Man... my shoulder hurts.

Going numb.

Oh ... shit, that's nasty.

K-kinda ... f-faint...

T-think I'll ... t-take a l-little ... nap.

Keiji dropped to one knee, almost the entirety of his left side covered with crimson blood. The wound to his shoulder had been deep – far worse an injury than he had initially thought. The severity had, ironically, served to dampen the pain. Keiji hadn't realised quite how bad it was until he had chanced to glance at it.

D-damn... I don't t-think there'll be l-like, a p-phoenix down and s-stuff here...

He was going to die. Whether by bleeding to death or by Lenny's hand right here and now. The latter option looked unlikely, as Lenny was keeping his distance, still regarding Keiji suspiciously, as if he suspected Keiji's sudden weakness to be a ploy of some sort.

... I wanna die on my own t-terms...

Keiji reversed his grip on the sabre hilt and locked eyes with Lenny.

“W-will... you...” Keiji's voice faded out into a croak. He swallowed, licked his lips, and tried again. “Will you b-be my s-second?” Lenny frowned , obviously not knowing what he was talking about, but why would he? Seppuku wasn't something discussed at much length in the US, as far as Keiji knew. Ah well... he would get the point.

Keiji sat, took a deep breath, then stabbed himself in the stomach, dragging the broken blade from side to side. It was difficult to accomplish with the destroyed weapon, and Keiji gasped with pain. Of course, he knew it would hurt, but this... as the blood loss took its toll and Keiji's vision started to swim, he saw Lenny walking towards him, and knew, with relief in his heart, that he had been understood.

G-guess this is like... g-game over and stuff...

B61 – Keiji Tanaka – ELIMINATED


Lenny planted one foot on Keiji's chest and tugged, the hatchet removing itself from the corpse's ribcage with a horrible crunch. Despite being absolutely covered in blood, with deep wounds to the chest and shoulder, as well as a torn open belly, Keiji still looked surprisingly peaceful. Lenny looked to his sister and tried a smile, but his heart wasn't in it.

“C'mon Liz... let's leave,” Elizabeth, silent, nodded, allowing Lenny to guide her away from the dead body and back into the rain. As they walked away, Lenny paused in his tracks, as he could have sworn that, on the wind, an insubstantial voice had whispered...

Thank you.

Lenny, looked around, shivered, then continued walking, just a little quicker than before.

Roll Call
Still here, pretty much mostly waiting on others to post, sides from that, I need to finish this death.

The Stench of Reality
Sean allowed himself a wry smile when Trish rebuffed him – he had really expected as much. Still... he supposed there was room for negotiation. It seemed as if he had been accepted, for the time being that was. When your 'room-mate' so to speak, was toting a gun about, however, you could never be sure of what was going to happen. But... Sean did have the ammo to that very weapon, so he guessed she didn't want to risk him walking out of the place and leaving her short on bullets.

Then again... what if she just decides to take it by force? What am I gonna do, poke her to death? Fuck, well, so far it looks as though Trish wants to keep me sweet. Not surprised though, I got the ammunition. Makes me VIP number one in her book...

Unless of course, she just decided to gun him down.

Trish walked towards him as Neil entered the building, picking something up from the ground and putting it on the pew Sean was seated on. As Trish confronted Neil, Sean looked down at the object. His eyes immediately swam as he saw that it was a picture of Andy, looking ... beautiful.

What...? How is there a picture of him here? I mean, not a lot of guys just carry around pictures of ... Sean's eyes narrowed. Fucking Wittany. Sean's feelings were mixed as he looked at the snap. Sure, it was a great picture, but looking at it reminded him that it been taken to be hoarded in some kind of perverted gallery of Wittany's...

The conversation became a little more heated, and Sean glanced back to Trish again, raising an eyebrow, then looked to Neil.

“You're one compassionate moron, you know that Sinclair?” Sean smirked, then sighed. “And you're gonna end up getting shot in the face,” he returned his gaze to Trish. “It's your call babe, but... and I don't wanna pressure you or anything.. remember who has the... bang bang, here,” Sean brought both brows up and down quickly. He really didn't want to blackmail Trish, but it wasn't like he was here out of the goodness of her heart. He had seomthing to offer her, and vice versa, that was all there was to it.

Don't Panic
((Maxie continued from: She Bop))

Maxie had fallen behind in the process of her escape. That wasn't too surprising, Madison after all had picked up a big head start by... well, leaving earlier. She wasn't really sweating it though. It wasn't a particular nice thing to think, but the other girl could really just take care of herself if she was running off ahead all of the time. Sure, they had some sort of alliance – nominally, at least, but Madison disturbed Maxie enough as it was. It wouldn't distress her unduly to have the other just fade into the jungle...

The delinquent paused for a few moments, wincing as water seeped into her shoes further. This swamp could go fuck itself. Still, that wasn't what Maxie had stopped to think about. Rather, her erstwhile ally.


Maxie really didn't know what to make of Madison. She had seen her around school, and did vaguely know her, but Southridge wasn't really a good point of reference, not on this island.
The weird thing about Madison, what was really putting Maxie off was... well, how she kept changing. One moment, she was charging in to the attack, willing to put everything on the line just to stop Maxie getting hurt. The next, she was skipping out on her. Maxie had, admittedly told her to run, but it was an abrupt change for sure...

She shook her head to dispel the thoughts, then kept walking. Pushing past some vegetation, Maxie spotted Madison, alongside another classmate. Maxie squinted a little, and a name struck her. Kulikov, Sharon Kulikov.

“Sup my chickadee?” Maxie called out. “I see ya been makin' friends,”

Chickadee? Where'd at come from girl? Ya ain't... oh god, ya are... fuck. Madi don't need watchin' out for Maxie...

But I'm a creep
Keiji was pretty much entirely acting on instinct. His mind still hadn't caught up with what was happening, and his body was moving almost of its own accord. As such. when Elizabeth grabbed him from behind, Keiji immediately spun around, his right hand - still holding the jagged broken end of the sabre, attached to a hilt, went flailing towards her face.

Keiji didn't get to see whether he had been hit or not though, as his attention was swiped from the blow by a sharp pain in his shoulder. He cried out in pain, turning his head slightly to see a hatchet buried a good few centimetres in his left shoulder.

Shit! SHIT! Injury! Medic! Somebody get me a potion! Who's on healing duty!? Critical hit people! Critical hit! With, like, the extra loud sound and red numbers and stuff!

But I'm a creep
Keiji was entirely unprepared for Lenny's sudden attack, but even as the other ran towards him, his mind changed gear with an almost audible clunk.

He seized the hilt of his sabre and struck a stance that was familiar to him from many long hours of practice.

And move, parry, strike, return...

Keiji brought out the sword to block the blow and...

The blade shattered.

"Oh poopy"

But I'm a creep
((Computer might crash, need to move things along, etc.))

As Keiji drew closer, disappontment hit him - these two... they weren't familiar. Well, not in the sense of being friends at least. He knew Lenny, and recgonised the girl as his sister who seemed to always be at his side, but Keiji couldn't really say he knew much more than that about them.

Sensing that perhaps, not all was well, Keiji slowed up a little, walking more cautiously, but still not making any move for his weapon. Wh ywould Lenny try hurt him anyway?

Mid-Month Rolls
Keiji twill be dying here

But I'm a creep
((Theo, Adwin was a girl :P))

((Keiji continued from: Searching For a Fire to Light the Way))

The rain had seriously messed with Keiji's navigation, not that it took a great deal to accomplish that. BRinging up the rear had been, perhaps, something of a bad idea, because once Keiji had fallen behind, there was no way he was going to catch up again. He was and always had been very easy to distract, and as soon as Trinity had advanced out of eyeshot Keiji had no chance.

“Huh... can't see Lex or the other girl anywhere. Maybe they're hiding,”

The basketballer looked first one way, then the other, up the airfield. He face lit up when he spotted two figures, through the veil of the rain, some distance away. Keiji immediately called out to them.

“Hey!” he shouted, jumping up and down on the spot. “Just a sec, I'll be right there!” Keiji immediately dashed towards them, Not once did the thought cross his mind that the pair could be hostile.

((SLight GM - picking Brad up, was run by Ci))


Brad had managed to wrest the armalon around to the point where the bullet didn't even come close to hitting him, which was frustrating. Bobby had been gifted a chance to end it all in one fell swoop and had managed to screw it up. In fact, if he'd just pulled the trigger earlier he wouldn't even be in this mess. It was unlikely he would now get sufficient room – and time to work the bolt of the carbine and chamber another round. It looked as though he would have to do this the old fashioned way...

Bobby knew that he lacked much grappling ability, so getting up off the ground was imperative. He was just starting to stand from his straddling position when Brad jerked his knee up in attack. Fortunately for the most sensitive part of Bobby's anatomy, his own movement meant the knee only glanced off his thigh. At a vertical base again, the boxer once again tried to regain possession of his weapon, hauling on it with all of strength. Brad clung on with such tenacity though, that all Bobby succeeded in doing was pulling him up onto his feet too!

This guy is determined, but who wouldn't be if they were fighting for their life? ... What the fuck am I doing? Grasping for every next second of life I get, why do I have to keep on playing? I could sit back and take everything as it's presented to me, I could be passive I could... no. This is the path I've chosen, I can't dive off it. There's no junction. But... there should be.

Caught up in thinking, Bobby only just caught the signs of an attack. Brad was drawing his head back – that could mean just about one thing in a fight. There wasn't much Bobby could do but... Smiling grimly, Bobby mimicked the movement, and thrust his own head forward, directing the blow at Brad's nose. The forehead was one of the hardest parts of the body, all that would achieve would be to dizzy the both of them

Crunch time.

Mid-Month Rolls
I used it earlier, though I appreciate the offer.

Mid-Month Rolls

Keiji Tanaka in for Sean O'Cann. Cruel, but he was fodder anyway...

Seensas he's currently in the magical land of elsewhere, if you would like a kill for one of your characters feel free to IM or PM me and we'll see if we can work anything out.

Equally, if you're looking for some way to off one of your own, I've got at least one character perfectly wiilling to do the deed ;)

The Stench of Reality
((For ease of interpretation, we'll assume Sean went inside before Neil, etc. arrived))

Sean breathed a sigh of relief. Unless this was a trick, which wasn't something that he was prepared to discount entirely, he was safe for the time being. Still, the voice had sounded neutral enough, if not friendly, and from what Sean remembered, it didn't match that of any of the girls who had been on the announcements thusfar.

It's never too late to start playing though, especially with a weapon like that...

But whatever, it didn't really matter. He had come to have... 'words' with the almighty one, so, one way or another, he would manage it. It was a morbid prospect to consider, but if he was killed, well, he'd just be talking with the guy more... directly, so to speak.

Sean edged around the door again, walking into the chapel proper. Immediately, he removed his cap, which was dripping wet, then shook himself slightly, getting some of the moisture which had soaked through the headgear out of his hair. Sean then looked up to see who it was that had taken up residence in the church. It took a moment or so, but Sean recognised her, after a brief pause, as Trish McCarroll. Sean had called it right – at least so far, Trish hadn't been playing.

The baseballer offered her a sheepish wave, before stepping to one side and walking to the end of the chapel, towards the alter. He sat down on one of the pews at the front, on the right hand side. Looking around, he noted that the chapel had picked up a corpse since he had been there on Day 1. It didn't bother Sean overmuch, though that was a terrible thing to say. He had, though, been there when Troy McCann was killed, and if you could stomach that, you could deal with this, if not comfortably than at least without being sick.

After a few moments, Sean looked back over to Trish.

“I hope you don't mind, but I'm uh... kinda wet, and I need to dry off my clothes. Shirt, at least. If it makes you feel any better, I won't be looking your way if I somehow get turned on...” Sean smiled at that, letting Trish know that he was making a joke, even though it was somewhat true. He had never been the slightest bit attracted to girls, much to the disappointment of some. Without waiting for an answer, Sean pulled his shirt off over his head, laying it out over the back of the pew. He noted, with a private smile, that he was starting to look pretty muscular, but reminded himself that he would need to drop weight for the baseball season again.

The baseball season? I'll be lucky to see tomorrow, let alone take part in a sports match!

Now that he had enough time to sit back and relax a little, Sean paid a little closer attention to his surroundings. Specifically, Trish's gun. Something about it tugged at his memory... Sean went into his day pack, rooted around for a little while, shifting the numerous magazines around, before finally pulling out a battered instruction manual. He looked at the picture on the front – an AK-47, then compared it to Trish's weapon. Lo and behold, they matched... Sean smiled again, an empty gesture, he didn't really feel up to humour right now, and spoke again.

“You might have better luck with that gun,” Sean told her. “...If you actually had any ammo,” as he spoke, he held up one of the clips that had been in his daypack. “Funny old world eh?”

As sounds came from outside, Sean looked over his shoulder, then shrugged. He tossed the single clip across to Trish, she could make better use of it than him.

“Consider that a loan. You've got the gun, I've got the ammo, I'm pretty sure we each want both... but we can argue about it after this place is secure, okay?”

The attack didn't quite connect properly, but it had been a good hit. Still, as Bobby had anticipated, Brad's momentum carried him forward and was enough to knock him clean off his feet. However, unfortunately for Brad, Bobby had been pretty much counting on this. Rather than bracing himslef against the blow, Bobby moved with it. Of course, he still absorbed some of the impact, but a lot of the force was converted to movement as Bobby rolled straight through the tackle, reversing the situation abruptly.

He had to finish this up quickly. The gunman outside (who had taken a second potshot at Bobby even as he entered the mess) was probably already on his way, and Bobby had no way of knowing whether there were any others in the building than Brad. Cynic that he was, Bobby was predicting a worse case scenario and attempting to formulate some means of getting out of it. First and foremost in any kind of plan was, of course, getting rid of Brad.

The quickest way, would obviously be via use of the gun.

Bobby would have to time his attack well. While he still had some sort of possession over the weapon's trigger, Brad was holding onto the weapon too. Although Bobby was pretty sure he was stronger than his opponent, any kind of pressure, tugging the armalon one way or the other, would be enough to throw off his aim. Thinking carefully, Bobby simultaneously pushed the muzzle of the carbine towards Brad, an action which would be made easier by his own pull, whilst hauling the stock end towards himself. The effect would be to bring the gun's muzzle to bear on Brad, but it wouldn't work if it wasn't done quickly, since brad would quickly cotton on to what was happening.

I'd ask you to forgive me if I thought I deserved it.

Bobby pulled the trigger, both hoping for and dreading the success of his attack.

She Bop
"Oh go bleed ta death y'pathetic excuse for a human," Maxie told Melina contempetously, jumping back from her attack. It was difficult to wield two weapons simultaneously, moreso when one of them was as cumbersome as the axe. There wasn't really anything to be gained from hanging around any longer though - as Melina had pointed out, with Madison gone and Jessa on the scene, it was now three against one.

Jessa being there hurt, truth be told. Maybe they weren't the best of friends, but Maxie liked to think the pair of them, sharing some common interests, were close enough. Maybe not. Fucking Melina. Maxie stepped back again, glancing over her shoulder. She could just about make out the shape of Madison in the distance, and she knew that if she wasn't to lose her, she would have to be making tracks too.

Madison wasn't somebody Maxie knew well, but so far, she was the only friendly person she had come across. Kallie and co, to her mind, didn't really count. Cheerfully flipping Melina and the rest of her little group the bird one last time, Maxie spun around and got the hell out of there. The sudden movement, combined with a quick burst of speed and the heavy rainfall, would hopefully be enough to allow her to make good her escape.

((Maxie continued in:Don't Panic ))

The Stench of Reality
((Post revised))

The Stench of Reality
((Sean continued from: Them vs. You vs. Me))

Sean was just about soaked through, but, at this point, he really didn't care. What mattered was that he had been able to navigate his way to the chapel with his compass and tactical use of his map. The vital piece of equipment was next to coming apart now, though Sean knew that given a chance to dry out, and provided it was treated gently, the map would still be usable.

He could be thankful, at least, that his baseball cap had kept at least some of the rain off of him, although it did create a weird waterfall of sorts either side of the brim. Sean didn't even know why he carried the thing around, to tell the truth. Perhaps it was just a habitual thing. Still, he was grateful even for the scant amount of cover the cap provided, keeping at least his eyes clear of the pouring rain, and simultaneously preventing his bandages from getting wet. He hadn't had a dizzy spell for a while now, which was encouraging. Hopefully, he had finally shrugged off the effects of his Day 1 injury.

As he walked, picking his way through the mire of the jungle, Sean thought back to what had happened at the barracks. He wondered if the others were still alright, if had been quite a while after all... Adam, Sean hadn't seen for a day now, and although his name hadn't been on the announcements, he could only assume he had been somehow waylaid. Julie, Sean figured, would be fine, she was well armed and looked to be knowing exactly what she was doing. Calm, collected, and in control, a sharp contrast to himself. Kyrie, Sean was worried about, but he supposed that as long as she stuck with Julie, she would be fine. Joey... he couldn't really give a fuck about Joey, if he turned up dead tomorrow, he wouldn't care. It didn't go as far as Sean actually wishing for him to be killed, but he most certainly would not be grieving if Mr. McHaimond caught a bullet.

Visibility was low, so even when Sean broke from the tree line into the open clearing which was home to the chapel it took him a few moments to see it, large structure though it was. Sean stopped for a moment or two, just glaring at the white building before him. He tipped his head, looking down, and could just about make out the silver crucifix still swinging from his neck. The rain had cleansed it of the dried blood, but Sean knew the little object would always seem to be running with crimson to him...

Sean glanced back up from the look at his necklace and moved on before the rain beat him down to nothing. Making it to the door of the chapel, Sean cautiously peeked around the door of the frame, before abruptly ducking back. Inside of the chapel, he had spotted a figure - the glance had been too fleeting to distinguish much detail. Dread rose in the pit of his stomach – he hadn't got a particularly good look, but the figure had appeared to have been carrying something which looked very much like a gun... it had been a little too fast a look to make out clearly, but they had definitely been holding an object of some description.

Sean pressed his back against the outside wall of the chapel and thought for a moment. If he had spotted the other, than they would definitely have seen him, though perhaps not quite as well, since he wasn't standing against a brighter backdrop. Still, if they were playing, then Sean was what was known in technical circles, as fucked. Ready to run like buggery if the bullets started flying, Sean cupped his hands to his mouth and called out to whoever it was standing watch.

“Yo! Guy in the chapel! I can see you're packing some heat there – would it be okay if I came over? I have to have some words with... the man upstairs, if you know what I'm saying. Ah, by the way, it's Sean O'Cann, case you wanted to cross-reference me to the announcements,” Sean didn't just wait for a reply, he turned his body to one side, so that he was actually only half facing the chapel. If the watchperson wasn't friendly, then Sean wasn't going to waste any time taking off. Hopefully the start his shift in posture, along with the obscuring rain, would allow him to escape if the meeting turned sour.

Either that, or he would get shot in the back and end up dying in the mud like some kind of animal, but at this point, Sean didn't much care. He wasn't feeling upset right now, and his anger, at least for the time being, was just about suppressed. What Sean did feel was a distinct lack of emotion, he was hollow, empty, for want of a better word. It was like having a broken heart to the power five. Pretty much everybody he seriously cared about was dead, it didn't really matter whether or not he joined them.

Don't think like that... there's always something to live for. I might not necessarily know what it is yet, but there has gotta be something.