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Even when Reeves actually picked up the gun (naturally brushing against one of her breasts as he did so, the asshole) Maxie still wasn't sure what was pissing her off, or hell, scaring her more: That she had a freaking huge guy pinning her to the ground, or that thousands upon thousands of viewers were at this moment tuning in to ogle at her tits. And it was true, they were, they had to be. Wasn't this the action they loved, so much more than all of the fighting and the struggles? Ultimately those people that watched this show liked nothing more than the chance of a bit of T&A.

It really didn't help that where Reeves was straddling her she could feel ... 'something' pressed up against her stomach. The guy had a freaking massive hard-on, and feeling it up against her like that, even through Reeves' shorts, sent Maxie into a panic. She started struggling then, but the way Reeves was sat on top of her there wasn't really anything she could do to get away. Reeves was just too damn big she realised, even as her mind raced for some solution - anything that would get Reeves off of her and give her a chance to just fucking run. He had to outweigh her by over a hundred pounds, he had almost a foot on her. Pinned down like this, there was no way Maxie could squirm free of him. Seeing Reeves' sick little smile, Maxie was filled with a despairing rage.

You're fuckin' enjoyin' this ain't ya Reeves!? I'll fuckin' KILL YA!

Maxie froze instants later as Reeves pointed the Mauser which had previously been stashed in her bra straight at her face. That... wasn't something she had been expecting. Not after he ripped her fucking shirt off. Maxie had just assumed he'd been after something other than the gun? Had he just been trying to get her mauser all along? But no... the look in Adam's eyes... the sly touching and brushing against her... would he have done all of that, be showing all of that if he was going to immediately kill her? What was in his pants made it abundantly clear that at least part of Reeves didn't have his mind on murder.

And now I don't know whether I would prefer if he just wanted ta get his rocks off... This guy is a fuckin' animal... but I don't wanna die either.

The gun remained pointed at her for several long moments that seemed to stretch on for an eternity, and absurdly all Maxie could think was...

Great. Not only am I gonna die but I'll be half naked too.

And then Reeves swung away, firing his gun at somebody - Kathy? It could have been. It was loud enough to make her wince but more importantly Reeves was momentarily distracted, and it snapped her out of her terror. Maxie had to be calm, had to keep her composure, otherwise she didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting out of this. Pinned she might have been, but the delinquent wasn't helpless, especially with Reeves' attention elsewhere. She had to exploit this opening, it was the only one that she was likely to get. One last throw of the dice.

So ya don't like my brother? Well you're gonna hate him even more after th'move that he taught me hits ya!

Maxie lunged forwards awkwardly, extending two knuckles of her fist to make a drive at Reeves' throat with the small point of impact. The less of her hand touched him the more it was going to hurt and the greater damage it would do. Hopefully Reeves would then look back towards her, by which time she would have fallen back again and then lunged at him a second time - on this occasion with a headbutt.

Reeves thought he had her dead to rights, Maxie was going to prove you never let your guard down whilst dealing with her. Even topless.

Time and Time Again
You're quite the smooth talker Rick. Totally. You could be a politician with tact like that.

Dacey refrained from vocalising her initial sarcastic response to Rick's reply - and her secondary one too at that. Sure it might have been an attempted warning (well, Dacey hoped so) but it came across as a barely concealed threat. Still, they hadn't blown off her head yet, which she took to be a good sign, and decided that there was nothing else to do but take the plunge and head on down there.

Struggling a little to keep her balance on the slope but nevertheless making somewhat steady progress, Dacey made her way to where Rick and Jim were, down by the nearest point to the water. Every step she took she felt herself dreading the gunshot - her nerves screaming at her to turn back, her mind divided on whether this was an intelligent survival choice or huge folly.

No way of knowing. Face it, I'm probably going to die within the next few days anyway, it doesn't matter if it happens now or at the eleventh hour.

As Dacey approached she raised one fist into the air, the butter knife glinting slightly as she held it above her head, showing the two guys that she wasn't a threat - or at least, her weapon wasn't.

"Unless you guys are dairy produce," 'Dawson' said as 'he' came closer. "You don't have anything to fear from me."

As soon as her kick went past Reeves, Maxie knew she was in trouble. She didn't claim to have some kind of database on him, but there were one or two tidbits she did have, and one of them was that Reeves was one of the stars on the wrestling team, alongside people like Darnell Butler (with three kills to his name, jesus) and Trey Leyton (very, very dead). Being on the ground, where the grappler practically lived, was a bad, bad idea.

And fuck if she could do anything about it.

With that thought racing through her head, Maxie was pretty much flipped over in one movement as Reeves hauled on her leg, effectively spinning her right around. Although there was a drop, it wasn't really enough to hurt her, just get her a little disorientated from the sudden motion, and handily preventing any kind of dodge or even reaction before Reeves aimed a kick at her ribs which, with his boots, hurt. Moments later, Maxie stopped worrying about that blow entirely.


Why the fuck would Reeves go for her shirt of all things was this some kind of... oh, the gun.

Maxie hoped to fucking hell it was the gun Reeves was going after.

Nevertheless, Reeves' attack about accomplished what he was aiming to do... and then some. The wrestler was damn strong, enough so that Maxie's tanktop pretty much ripped into two, torn into shreds by the force he exerted on it. It didn't stop there though. Whether it was intentional or Reeves just put a bit too much force into it Maxie didn't know, but that wasn't important, fact was, the tanktop wasn't the only article of clothing in the line for damage.

What was?

Oh shit. Y'all have got to be fuckin' kiddin' me. This can't be fuckin' real!

The length of material between the two cups on her bra snapped and the undergarment pretty much dropped clean off, the Mauser falling free from where she had stashed it. Maxie, however, couldn't actually have given a flying fuck about the gun, the fact that her breasts had been exposed was something rather more important to worry about. An ice cold wash of dread spilled over her, sweeping away the rush and exhilaration of the fight. The adrenaline-fuelled pumping of her heart was replaced by that of apprehension. Fear.

She was fucking topless with a guy she knew lusted after her pinning her to the ground.

Maxie was just too stunned, feeling sick to her stomach with dread to say anything or even just try to hit Reeves, that sick fuck.

He ripped my fuckin' BRA off. Maxie your goddamn TITS are out on fuckin' TV... Fuck! FUCK! Ya fuckin' touch me Reeves and I'm gonna rip your motherfuckin' balls off!

Gotta get some distance between me an' him. C'mon, c'mon, just a little furhter and he won't be able to get near. C'mon... FUCK!

Maxie barely had enough time to become incredibly confused at the raving vcoming from behind (Kill Reeves? She was running the fuck away from him) before she felt a hand latch onto her ankle, curtailing her attempt at fleeing, and pulling her to the ground. Luckily, the fact she wasn't properly standing up in her mad scramble stopped falling from driving the wind out of her. Nevertheless, Reeves wound up dragging her right back to square one... and into danger besides.

What the hell was Reeves talking about though? She couldn't have been acting anything less like wanting to kill him. She had started running away, hell, she'd put her gun away - what was going through Reeves' head to make him think she was playing the game? Maxie hadn't been on any announcements and it wasn't like she had attempted to kill Kathy (where was that bitch anyway? Or was this too interesting, seeing her adored SotF in action firsthand, to interfere in?) Right now though, Maxie had more pressing issues at hand. She could wonder why Reeves was going after her and thinking she was trying to kill him later. Later being after he had stopped trying to kill her. The guy was off of his fucking rocker, although Maxie had already known about his temper, this was just something else.

Maxie wasn't just going to let herself get dragged back without a murmur though. That Reeves had pulled her back just meant she had to try harder to break out of his grasp. Rolling over as Reeves pulled her back Maxie used what was essentially a horizontal stomp, trying to land her boot on the top of Reeves' skull and hopefully disorientate him. He was fully stretched out from the lunge at her ankle after all, he would struggle to defend himself against the blow. Regardless, Maxie then executed the same move again, this time aiming for Reeves' hands. She doubted Reeves would appreciate his fingers getting kicked, but since he'd tried to cut her half earlier, he'd more or less forfeited any right to complain to Maxie. It was dirty, it was brutal, but most of all... it was survival.

Fuck you Reeves. I know ya carry a grudge, but we ain't sortin' it at a time where either of us could die durin' it.

Maxie was more than a little surprised when her attack actually had the desired effect. Sure, that was what it was supposed to do, but still, Reeves was a big guy, and he'd been dumped on the ground with ease. Of course, being that Reeves was unlikely to give up just from being knocked down, Maxie didn't let the shock keep her in place for any longer than it took to just react.

Still, Maxie was cost time as she scrambled in the mud for a precious second or so, slipping as she tried to get up. From there she decided it was going to take too long to get up and sprint and just moved how she could, not quite on her hands and knees but not much better than that, just trying to put some distance between Reeves and herself.

Fact was, Reeves was trying to kill her, if, y'know, the thing with the sword was any indication. She didn't really care precisely why (although she could probably hazard a close guess) - foremost in her mind was just getting the hell out there. One fleeting thought of Cara's wellbeing hit her, but hell, Maxie was having enough trouble looking after herself without having to deal with some catatonic girl who couldn't even walk without being supported. She owed Cara one, it was true, but did that mean risking her own life just to try and get the other girl out of there? Reeves was a big and slow fucker, to say the least, but Maxie didn't doubt that he could outpace her if she was forced to drag Cara along with her.

Maxie didn't want to leave her behind, but at this point, it didn't look as though she had much of a choice.

Sorry girl... I tried ta look out for ya, but I've got Reeves tryin' ta kill me here. I hope I can fight him off, but if I can't... urgh.

This wasn't going to be easy to do.

Maxie rated Reeves very highly on the list of people she really didn't like. Nobody else had groped her after all. Maxie had strong, strong views on sex and naturally, she hadn't appreciated somebody trying to strongarm her into ditching her morals. Still, scumbag that he was, Maxie still didn't believe that he deserved to be shot down like a dog. Even if he was trying to bisect her. Well okay, maybe that was going a little far but... human life wasn't something to just be taken away, hadn't enough people already been killed? Reeves evidently thought not.

She was in two minds about using the gun. One part of her was already screaming in rage and frustration for not having capped Reeves whilst she had the chance - she'd caught him cold! Pull the trigger and boom - he was dead and gone. ... And that was precisely the protest the other view had in mind. Could she just kill somebody? So far, the answer was no. Even now, in the middle of the fight, the very idea of it filled Maxie with disgust. The delinquent wasn't sure if she should be regretting that scruple.

The prevailing thought in her head was 'yes' as Reeves moved onto the attack again, catching her unprepared and slamming an elbow into her forehead. Dazed by the blow landed by the much bigger Reeves, Maxie slipped on the mud underfoot, the slick footing meaning that she wasn't even there for the second blow, falling flat on her ass on the ground, avoiding the attack far more by luck than judgement - if you called eating an elbow from somebody Reeves' size lucky.

Maxie took a moment to shake off the first shot, with Reeves' follow up sweeping over her head. On the ground, Maxie shoved her gun down her tanktop (hey, there wasn't time to do much else) before planting both hands onto the ground and using the base to spin around. This would effectively move her around Reeves again, where she would continue the spin to launch a kick at his ankles and hopefully send him to join her down on the ground, which would hopefully allow her time to get the hell out of there.

Time and Time Again
Burying bodies? The hell...

Dacey felt no shame in admitting that the names called back meant next to nothing to her. Outside of the soccer team she knew very few people well enough to even be on casual speaking terms with them. The first though - Rick Holeman, tweaked at her memory a little, and after a moment, Dacey recalled what little she knew about him. She liked watching Southridge's football team on play, and if she remembered correctly, Rick was on said team. Still, that was about all that came to mind regarding him, so it wasn't exactly a huge help to her.

After a moment's consideration, Dacey decided that the boys probably wouldn't be so open about what they were doing if their intent was malicious, and spoke up for a second time, maintaining the roughness of tone, which she was very much used to doing by now.

"I'm further uphill than you guys," 'Dawson' told Rick. She hesitated, then stood up and waved, knowing that from where they stood she would be standing out against the sky. After that, she sat down again, not wanting to make herself a target just in case the pair really were pulling some sort of trick. "Mind if I come down there?" she asked. "I'm feeling a little exposed up here,"

Of course, if they were playing, she'd be screwed, but you couldn't hide forever, and if they weren't, then hopefully they wouldn't mind somebody else in their group. Besides which, Dacey had managed to escape from one (heck, a group of) crazed killer already, she had confidence in her ability to do the same here.

I ought to add to our article that v3 registrations are closed.

Looking Back - An Opportunity for Self Critique
In order of lifespan...

Tyson Neills

Oh man... Tyson was a trainwreck of a character, seriously. Speak to me about him for any length of time and you're gonna know just how much I disliked him. In a way I only signed him up for v3 to get some closure on the character rather than having him as a loose end.

I have to admit though, his death didn't really do him justice. I could have done a lot better than I actually did (and yeah, I've fielded the accusation that I killed him off purely to get Bobby a gun before, I'll get to that) but the truth was, I just really didn't like using him, and that's something I quite regret.

As to what I mentioned earlier. Yeah, when a handler kills off a fodder in their first post with somebody who's obviously their flagship it looks bad, but that's not something I'd do. I've said before that Bobby would have killed Tyson whether he had a Rocket Launcher or a teddy bear, the only thing I regret is that his death wasn't that great, haha.

Ric Chee

I've got mixed feelings about Ric. Contrast him pregame to v3 itself - it's very clear that I didn't decide precisely what I was doing with him up until I started him off on the island. Don't get me wrong, RPing the snarky Juan was a blast, but he was way too inconsistent for me to be entirely happy with the character.

I realised his concept - that being a crazy guy, but he wound up being more of a nice, friendly, crazy guy than some insane psychotic. In a way, I'm glad he drew leaves, because otherwise he might have wound up being a generic lunatic, and that's something I really don't think would have realised his potential.

It's also cool to have had a character who was a founding member of S.A.D.D dontcherknow, xD.

Simon Wood

Ah... I just did Simon's evaluation yesterday, and it reminded me of just how much I liked RPing Simon, his quirky sense of self-deprecating humour, his clumsy attempts at being a hero. I would have liked to have kept him around a little longer, now that I think about it, but ah well, no use looking back now.

I have no regrets when I look back on the character, he died on... what, Day 3? But in that time he went through a lot - from joining up with Terrie and Brad and helping Adam to fend off Gabriel, to simply freezing up when Blood Boy attacked the group, to rescuing Madison from Daniel Brent. Overall he was a fun character to write as and although I guess I could have done more with him, I think I got a nice sense of closure to his character.

For some reason, the pointless sacrifice he made in attacking Darnell seemed an oddly appropriate way to have him go, quite a sad character in my opinion.

Keiji Tanaka

Although he was short lived, he was fun as hell to RP as. It made a change from all the seriousness to have a character who was not only slightly comedic, but genuinely dense - even whilst dying he hardly broke stride in just being funny. I probably couldn't have maintained that for a prolonged period of time, but I don't feel bad that he had such a short tenure - it wasn't like I had some huge, grandiose plan for him after all.

Dacey 'Dawson' Ashcroft

Haha... I had a laugh conceiving of Dacey. Surprisingly enough, her original concept was of an extremely feminine guy, but I got a little way into making her, and I found the whole idea just worked better the other way around.

Obviously I haven't had the chance to do a whole lot with her yet, but I'm hoping that's going to change before too long, since I don't really have any 'fodder' characters any more. I'm going to keep rolling with the deception idea, and see if anybody actually figures it out (so far, so good ;)). Might be interesting to have her actually sack off the whole thing if she survives another couple of days, which, considering she's supposed to be rather pretty under all that 'disguisation' should be a nice thing to explore.

It's good to RP her, since she's obviously got an entirely different mindset to any of my other characters (being that remaining incognito is also quite a high priority), but I'll need to do more before I have the chance to really get into the meat of her character.

Maxie Dasai

Maxie is at risk of upstaging Bobby for my favourite character (of my own) to tell you the truth. It's great RPing her, to the point where I'm always anticipating the next chance I get to post with her. It's funny that I feel I actually write her the amongst my best out of my characters, despite being of the opposite gender. I don't know if that is actually true though, so I'll steer away from that.

I have no plan for Maxie, whatsoever. The only thing I know I want to do is expand a little more on the character... of her brother, since he's that important to her. I'm looking forward to seeing how things pan out with Maxie, since I truly have no exact direction with her. I feel I've stayed pretty faithful to her character though - it would have been easy joining Kallie's group early on, but I reminded myself she's fiercely independent. Way things are going she'll wind up abandoning Cara too, lol.

Sean O'Cann

Sean is in no way representative of his original concept, he couldn't be further from what I initially had in mind for him. And you know what?

That is great.

Sean was, at the beginning, supposed to be an archetypical jock type, an asshole, game player and all that jazz. I've really got Persephone to thank for working out the storyline which resulted in him coming out and doing the 180 in character which made him what he is now: much better than before, anyway.

He's had a lot of opportunity to develop, what with his best friend, boyfriend and cousin all biting the dust quite early on, and I feel that he's got to the point where he just doesn't care what happens to him any more. Not exactly a nihilist, but very emotionally numb. From an RP standpoint, it's been a whole lot of fun showing his reactions (especially writing that post where he had a rant at um... God xD).

I'm very satisfied with Sean. I'm not sure where I'm going with him next, but I think it's going to be a fun ride finding out.

Bobby 'Bocelot' Jacks (a nickname derived from his headshot on Andy, I started saying he was Revolver Ocelot, lol)

I absolutely never thought that he would be a villain, not when I first started him off, not until I started with his first post in the game. I absolutely love writing him, and I believe I've done a good job of making him genuinely sympathetic rather than coming across as a psychotic (I think it was Kyle that told me he was Kiriyama done right) which was definitely what I was aiming for.

The only thing I could say I dislike about the character is the earliest posts - they didn't quite fit into the frame I wanted to build, and that shows. Hopefully it's eclipsed by his current characterisation though.

Well, I guess I'm just gonna keep going with Bocelot and see where playing the game leads him. Obviously I have high hopes of making it to the end with him (really, my highest ambition is to propel him to the notoriety enjoyed by say, Jacob Starr, Cody Jenson or Mariavel Varella, but I can only hope, eh? ;)) but otherwise I don't have much of a plan in mind.

Thus ends my rather self-indulgent post, ha.

Project: Wiki
And the Post-game evaluation is like a final conclusion after they're dead/won.

SOTF Podcast Episode 2
Well you already know I like it, but I best say it again: great job guys.

((Well I was waiting for Chad to post, but eh, he was probably doing the same for me.))

Whilst waiting for Kathy to reply, Maxie decided it would probably be a good idea to check on Cara. She'd just collapsed after all, and that was worrying (if irritating) what if she was suffering from some sort of illness as opposed to having broken down? That was a startling thought - all this time Maxie had thought the pressure had just got to the girl, but if she was genuinely sick...

Turning around to see if Cara was okay, Maxie had little more than a split second to see somebody charging at her, weapon raised high. She moved instinctively, diving aside - the sweeping blow of the sword missing her by little more than a milimeter it seemed. Maxie turned the dive into something of a cartwheel, landing on her feet to one side of where she'd been standing moments before, and from there, got a much better view of her attacker. Maxie had never been more glad of her two months, two to three times a week Capoeira classes than at that moment.

"Reeves!" she shouted. "Ya motherfucker!"

It was at the party of some guy... probably one of the baseballers, knowing how much most of them liked to get drunk, but Maxie couldn't remember any more. It was pretty standard fare for her, nothing too over the top. Plenty of alcohol available, but if drugs were being passed around it was definitely low-key, nobody doing or planning anything too crazy...

At least, until Adam Reeves caught sight of Maxie, and decided that he very much liked what he saw. Maxie never figured out whether he was just drunk or had had his eye on her for a while, but either way, the results were the same.

Maxie was just leaning against a wall, watching the other partygoers and taking a brief breather when a huge figure suddenly loomed over her. Startled, Maxie looked up, into the face of Reeves - one of the biggest, meanest guys around. Perhaps not the greatest fighter in the world, but with the size and strength to make up for it. She couldn't help but notice that he appeared to be stealing a look down her top.

She didn't know the guy all that well. They'd met before at various gatherings (mostly, Maxie suspected, because Reeves was looking to pick fights) but only exchanged a couple of words in passing overall. She knew Lucas didn't like him, but when pressed for an answer, it turned out he wasn't pleased that there was somebody who looked as though, in time, might get up to his standard. Looking at Lucas' tendency to start fights at the drop of a hat, Maxie thought that the two of them were somewhat similar people, although Lucas never did anything like Reeves' bullying.

Reeves said some kind of pick-up line then - Maxie couldn't remember what it was, but she did recall giving him a look of vague disinterest and politely but firmly shutting him down. Reeves looked somewhat surprised at that, but responded only by becoming more insistent, actually grabbing ahold of her at one point. And then... a hand appeared on Reeves' arm.

"Dat's enough," said Lucas Dasai. Maxie had her own odd accent (similar to her father's) but Lucas' was like no-one else in the family. Maxie had her suspicions that it was affected rather than natural, but since Lucas hadn't let it slip, even as a youngster. the idea could be nothing more than conjecture.

"Hey idiot. Didn't ya hear my sister say no? Leave her alone,"

"Well I don't see you having the guts to do anything Lucas, so shove off," Reeves pushed Lucas away, and Maxie saw a light come into her older brother's eyes. Lucas wasn't a big guy by any means - he barely reached Maxie's own height, but he was one of the best fighters you could find around. He got into so many scrapes and altercations that he had to pick up some tricks, otherwise he would have just got his ass kicked all of the time.

And with that, Lucas socked Reeves one straight in the jaw...

Maxie hadn't really been bothered by Reeves after that fight, but she suspected that this was mostly because he wanted to take out his frustrations on her older brother rather than her - a proxy. However, not long after the fight, Lucas had decided that he might as well turn the one thing he was good at into a real profession and started to train for MMA in the hopes of starting a career. Just recently, he had achieved success in this, managing to secure a contract and...

Goddamn... I forgot, Lucas had his first fight yesterday. Wonder how my bro did...

"Jesus. Do ya ever stop bein' an asshole!?" Maxie snapped at Reeves, the thought not occuring to her to raise the gun again. "I wouldn't let ya fuck me so now ya wanna kill me? Is that it!?"

Who here HASN'T seen/read Battle Royale?
Or you could go on the site and read about them, then you'll actually know as opposed to us needing to explain. I only did it because Hero mentioned one, haha.

Who here HASN'T seen/read Battle Royale?
Anyone Can Die, I think, would be a better way to phrase that.

Time and Time Again
((Dacey 'Dawson' Ashcroft continued from: What a day, what a day, what a day.))

Dacey hadn't been able to keep Herman safe all that long. Saving someone's life one moment, and watching them lose it the next. That was just how SotF went she supposed. It wasn't always physical prowess, sometimes it simply boiled down to luck and chance. Totally random.

Looking up from the ground (the jungle not being the easiest place to trek through at night) Dacey stopped dead in her tracks. She wasn't wearing her sunglasses at this point, because that would have been exceptionally stupid, and besides, even though her eyes were rather feminine, who would be able to look closely enough in the dark to make that out? As such, she saw, quite clearly silhouetted against the water below, two figures. They looked to be... dumping bodies?

Either that's very respectful or they're trying to avoid people seeing their handiwork. Which could it be?

If they were killers and they caught sight of Dacey she didn't stand much of a chance. Having superior stature wasn't a huge boon when you had an athletic rather than muscular physique - especially when you took into account that women generally weren't as strong as men. A size advantage would only come into play if they both didn't have good weapons and weren't very good fighters. What good would a butter knife do against a gun?

Dacey hesitated.

But what if they weren't killers? What if they were good guys just trying to make it out? Dacey would much rather be with other people - especially if they were well-armed, than trying to make her way around the island solo.

Given the position of the pair - lower than her, although she would stand out against the skyline, if she needed to, she would be able to get well away just by fleeing.

It was worth the risk.

"Hey," Dacey paused, then intentionally gruffed up her voice a little - she couldn't let it slip... not now. "It's Dawson Ashcroft. You ... playing?"

The Beginning is The End is The Beginning
((Bobby Jacks continued from: Sound and Fury))

Tyson fell dead in an instant, the syringe sticking straight through his eye socket and driven into his brain.

Ric reeled back, clutching his stomach as a red stain blossomed across his white shirt. He looked vaguely bemused for a moment before a fist met his face, smashing him to the ground.

Quale dropped to his knees, crying out in pain. His neck made a dry snapping sound as it was wrenched back and he fell flat on his face.

"Why?" Reg croaked, a bullet blasting through the back of his skull mere moments later.

Bam. And just like that, Arthur pitched to the ground, dead, brain matter and blood decorating the ground below.

A cry, a reflexive firing of the weapon, and a dull thud. Lucky shot? Not for the other guy.

The easy tearing of the skin around the throat, the scalpel cutting straight through, blood gouting out and Ivan falling soundlessly...

Even as part of Bobby concentrated on keeping a look out for both traps and other students, another played back the deaths of the seven people Bobby had killed, over and over again. As far as he knew... he was the top killer on the island, unless somebody else had decided to slaughter the rest of their group or something.

The very concept of it chilled him.

He wasn't playing defensively, no matter how much he tried to tell himself that he was attempting to keep confrontations to a minimum. Bobby had watched bits and pieces of the first SotF program (although he'd avoided the second, it wasn't really his kind of thing) and he knew who he seemed to be.

Jacob Starr. Hell, he even matched the guy's kill count. Walking around indescriminately killing anybody he could, what did it matter that he regretted it? Feeling sorry for his victims would hardly make them feel any better would it?

Another random statistic came to him - barely remembered from a report of sorts.

Jesus. I'm joint fifth on the highest all-time kill... leaderboard? Try justifying that. I don't think anybody is going to buy self-defence or extreme circumstances here.

A sort of numbness settled in then. There was no way he was going to be able to go back to a normal life, and with that, his entire motive crumbled. All he wanted to do was get out of this hellhole, and because he could conceive of no way of escape, that meant playing the game... but what hope did he have of being able to walk out of this unaffected? It wasn't like he had been protecting anybody - or even himself, he'd actively sought out other people to take out. Probably every person watching thought that he was an evil bastard - and every person on the island to boot.

And are they wrong? I'm not so sure.

Bobby sighed deeply, trying not to dwell on things. What was the likelyhood he would even make it to the end anyway? Why worry about what would happen once he won the game when there were still upwards of 100 students left? Bobby had a huge target on him: both for prestige factor and that most people would likely attack him on sight. There was little to no chance he'd make it anywhere close to the end game.

It was still raining, and it was no dark too to boot, but nevertheless, Bobby identified a large building in front of him. At the same time, the foilage underfoot went from grass to something hard... where had he wound up? He guessed it was the airfield, although he couldn't be sure in the darkness.

This... could actually work in his favour - if he couldn't be identified it was less likely people would shoot at him. Cautiously, Bobby headed towards the large building, keeping low in case anybody decided to take a potshot at him.

#1: New Paths
((Sean continued from: The Stench of Reality))

Sean was fucked, there were no two ways about it. Taking his map out after leaving the chapel had been a risk, he knew that, but one he believed he needed to take. It hadn't paid off, the vital information next to disintergrating in the rain, leaving him with only sodden fragments and an incredibly explicit curse on his lips.

From there, Sean had proceeded to get very lost indeed.

"What the heck is this place?"

The building now in front of Sean wasn't one he had encountered before on the island, and if he remembered the landmarks on his map correctly (he hardly claimed to have a photographic memory) it didn't match up to any of them either. There were a set of barracks, he'd been there, but unless several years of decay had been miraculously sped up to happen in the day or so since he'd left them, this wasn't the same place.

It didn't look like much, but Sean was soaked through to the skin - having spent the majority of the previous day in the Chapel, he hadn't had the opportunity to get all that wet. Sean now appreciated just how much shelter the large building had given him, and now was grateful for even this scant opportunity to get out of the wet.

Sean ducked into the scant shelter, tucking himself into the driest corner he could find, before curling up and putting his head on his raised knees.

"I fucking hate this island," he muttered to himself. "Every new place I find just makes me discover another thing to despise,"

v4 Concepts Relapse
Heh. None of my characters are either me or people I know, not even based. I've never really seen the attraction to that, although I don't hate on the inserts, just saying it's not something I'd personally do.

For the record, I never knew the Blazn Azn or the Finnisher or any of those other psychos. I just think it'd be interesting to develop normal characters with curiously similiarly-sounding names to those psychos and might share a couple of their habits but NOT their personalities (even after a significant amount of ingame break-in.)

He wasn't suggesting anything like that, I don't know where that came from. Also, I agree in that it's somewhat tasteless. To be honest LaZ it strikes me as unescessary.

I be...uh...middle-age school, beyotch. Don't be dissin 'cuz I ain't one-a them V3 noobs ain't been broken in yet.

Pfft, there's plently of v3-ites who have been around for quite a while. Ciel, Aaron, Trish, Mimi and myself, par exemple.

@Solitair: I'd totally read that.

@People in general, including self: Let's nuuudge this back on topic now shall we?

I'm toying with adding pacifism to the rich guy character, like, real, honest to good stuff. Probably happened before, but to the point where he might get attacked and have it be something huge even for him to throw a punch. (I sense Pregame scene)

Sound and Fury
And like that, Ivan was dead too. As his victim crumpled, Bobby abstractly wondered if that was some kind of record for a group of kills - the entire thing must have happened inside of a minute, if even that. Blam. Arthur was gone. Blam. That other kid was gone. Slice. Ivan was gone.




It was a good thing that Bobby hadn't wanted to dally at the barracks any longer. Upon slitting Ivan's throat he had immediately turned about and was on the move. That probably saved him from being shot in the face, plus the fact that Nutbrown had very little experience with his weapon. It didn't matter what the comic books depicted, you didn't become an expert by squeezing off a couple of shots: Bobby would be surprised if he even managed to hit anything else with his SIG. Hitting Andy had been a phenomenally lucky shot, one he was unlikely to ever replicate without arranging the whole situation perfectly.

Turning around, it took a split second for Bobby to register there was somebody standing in the shadows of the treeline, and in that regard, it was very lucky indeed he'd already started to move. The three bullets fired by whoever the guy in the trees was buzzed by on Bobby's left, and the boxer didn't plan on giving him time to re-adjust his aim, sprinting off on a diagonal tangent to the right, putting the trees between him and his assailant.

Bobby vaguely heard voices call out behind him, but he didn't heed them. It was probably Neil warning the others he was about to take a potshot or something. Much to his surprise, he made it into the forest and finally, blissfully, escaped the area.

((Bobby Jacks continued in: The Beginning is The End is The Beginning))

Don't listen to these mook, it won't take nearly that long.

Also: Welcome.