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Scrolling Quote Suggestion Thread
So, hi, everyone! I'm sure you have noticed that the scrolling quote has returned, on both skins now. We're going to be trying to keep it a bit more updated than in the past, too, hopefully changing every couple of weeks-month.

As such, we're going to need a good selection of quotes to pick from.

We tried a poll back before the site switch (dunno if anyone remembers that), and it was okay, but very slow. Since we're going for speed and immediacy, we're going to do it a bit different this time.

So, basically how this works is, we're taking suggestions for scrolling quotes. Ideally, they shouldn't be too long, and should capture the spirit of the site or crucial events in some facet, or just be really really good quotes. We're not going to have voting on these; rather, the staff is going to pick from the suggestions or others we find. It's less democratic, but it's a whole lot quicker and easier, and ensures that our quotes are actually pretty current.

One last thing: when you suggest a quote, please make sure to link the thread it comes from. This is a chance to informally highlight and shout out to some of our great writers and characters, and I'm sure a bunch of people will be interested in the scenes these quotes come from.

Also, please do not nominate yourself.

Repeat nominations are pointless, since this is not a voting thing.

Finally, there's no way we're going to get anywhere close to hitting all of these, especially as they become less current due to game progress, so I want to reiterate that the secondary purpose of this thread is to give shout outs to cool lines and characters.

Since this is not a critique thread, no bashing of others' choices.

Now, have at!

EDIT: Keeping a list of past quotes for posterity, just in case anyone is interested.

Past Quotes

V4 BKA/BDA Voting: May 2011
Once again, here's this month's BKA/BDA.

This will run through whenever on the 1st the announcement goes up (or later, if there is any delay).

Anyone with an extension is getting bumped to next month's contest so that we stay on schedule. I don't really think there is anyone, unless I'm forgetting, which is quite likely. No one involved in the rescue is going on either of these lists, due to the ambiguous nature of things (and, of course, inability to retrieve BKA weapons).

That said, here you go:

Best Kill:
Liam Brooks for killing Örn “Dutchy” Ayers
Alex White for killing Annaliese Hansen and Rosa Fiametta
Maf Tuigamala for killing Nick Reid
Kitty Glittschall for killing Micheal Raynor
Kris Hartmann for killing Roland Hayes
Hayley Kelly for killing Charlene Norris

Best Death:
Tythanin for the death of Melissa Li
Dom for the death of Dave Morrison
Little Boy for the death of Örn “Dutchy” Ayers
Randomness for the death of Adrian Staib
Super Llama for the death of Maria Graham
Betaknight for the death of Annaliese Hansen
Clubelle for the death of Rosa Fiametta
Rattlesnake for the death of Nick Reid
Hollyquin for the death of Jasper-Declan MacDermott
Solitair for the death of Roland Hayes
Arscapi for the death of Gracie Wainwright
decoy73 for the death of Charlene Norris
xylophonefairy for the death of Helen Wilson

V4 Final Ten Predictions
I've had a couple requests for a place to put lists anonymously, so here one is. If you want your UN attached to your comments, feel free to keep posting here. If you want to post a list without being identified, you can do so there. You can even do both, if you really want to for some reason.

V4 Final Ten Predictions
So, I know we have another thread for it, but a few members have expressed interest in having a place to put their final ten lists anonymously. As such, I'm making one here. The rules are really simple: post your top ten predictions/hopes. You can put as much or as little justification behind them as you want. The thing is, this is not a thread for anonymously slamming other people's choices. We want your list. We don't care about why other characters aren't on it.

So, yeah, if you want to put your list up under the cover on anonymity, this is the thread for it.

Introduction Thread
Welcome to SOTF, monad!

Also, you should come say hi in the chat and check out the Mini.

Feel free to shoot me a PM if you have any questions!

May Mid-Month Rolls
That's a wrap, folks.

A Slight Change of Plans
((Jennifer Perez continued from A way a lone a last))

It was total coincidence that Jennifer found herself staring at a boat on the east beach. She'd passed out of the felled forest after dealing with the other girl, not really sure where she was going or what she was doing, just looking for somewhere to be. She'd figured she'd just go somewhere safe and be there for a while, but nowhere was safe in this game, not anymore. Everywhere was full of death and destruction. Everywhere was a graveyard.

There was, however, one place where she had felt safe recently, where she had been able to escape everything for a while. The roof of the groundskeeper's hut had been her sanctuary, and, more than that, it was a place other people were unlikely to be. Okay, it was also a danger zone, but that would be cleared at the next announcement. She could just go there again and sit on that roof until she died or was forced to move. It was as good a goal as anything else.

So she'd backtracked through a little pass in the mountains, avoiding the place where it had all gone wrong, avoiding where Melissa and who-knew-who-else lay. She'd looped past the house of mirrors again, and she'd remembered, and she'd wished she'd never left that note. It had brought Nick to them, and that was why Melissa was dead. It was so fucked up. All she'd done was try to remain with her friends, to find some comfort and safety in this game, just for a little while. She hadn't asked for much. Fuck, she'd not even wanted to live that much longer. She hadn't even really expected Melissa or Maf or Nick to get off. They were just supposed to outlast her, to spare her the pain of seeing them go.

She'd moved quickly, covering the entire ground in maybe four or five hours, walking tirelessly. It was quicker, moving when you no longer gave a fuck that someone might stumble over you and fill you with bullets.

It wasn't like they would. No one except Jimmy Brennan had made so much as a move to physically harm Jennifer during her stay on the island. She was protected by diplomatic immunity or something, the fucking Switzerland of Survival of the Fittest. Neutral. Not a threat to anyone. Someone you could go cry to, no matter how many murders you'd committed.

Her hands were entwined in her hair, yanking at the short strands, not hard enough to really hurt, but plenty to keep a constant pressure on her scalp. She didn't even know what she was doing. She was lost, not in any geographical sense, just lost with herself. Maybe she'd never been anything but lost. She'd never been the most collected person, never in her life. She'd been one push away from a nervous breakdown before the trip. It was a fucking miracle she'd kept together as well and as long as she had.

And now she was pretty much ready to throw it all away, to just give up and sit and die. She just had to wait until the announcements cleared the hut. In the meantime, she was sitting in the greens, looking at the mansion and wishing it was full of people, wishing she could go insane enough to repopulate this island in her head. A strong grasp on reality really fucking sucked right now, seemed like.

But maybe she was going crazier than she'd thought, because, just so very dimly, she'd heard voices, promising safety and salvation. She'd heard the siren call of a rescue, a return to reality.

She'd gone.

It hadn't been easy. She'd burned the majority of her energy earlier, on the trek here. She'd stumbled and wheezed, a stitch in her side and blisters on her feet and all the time so close to sure that she was being tricked, being led into some slaughter. She didn't care. Not a bit. Death was inevitable. Maybe someone would finally just shoot her, prove that she actually mattered in some way, that she was worth a bullet or something.

It had taken her a couple hours just to get from the greens to the beach. Her legs were cramping badly. Her mouth was dry. She'd had plenty to drink from streams, but that had been some time ago. Maybe if she wasn't shot, if they kept up the usual routine and looked at her funny and maybe talked to her a bit, maybe she'd go back to the mansion and hope it had a well.

Only, it hadn't been a trick or a trap.

There was a boat, and Jennifer was down the beach from it, a ways away from it, staring at it, and it was so incredibly, painfully clear that they were real and saving people and taking them home and also that they were wrapping it up right now, that she'd fucked around too long and was going to get left behind.

She only had the slightest moment of hesitation, of guilt. She was leaving her friends behind, those who were still alive. She didn't know if there were any, if Nick or Maf or—through some miracle—both, had managed to limp away from that fight. In that moment, though, looking at the boat, she didn't give a fuck.

At the end of the day, Jennifer Perez had always been a selfish person, and she knew it well.

She wanted to live. She wanted to keep going. She didn't want to find out what happened after death, didn't want to lie rotting on this island. Yeah, she'd probably die on this boat instead, probably be sunk, probably have her corpse picked clean by the fish, but she just didn't give a fuck. It was better than this. Anything was better than this.

She knew what she was signing up for, of course. Psychology was her favorite subject, so she knew all about PTSD and Survivor's Guilt and Stockholm Syndrome and all those other awful things. She knew she was probably going to regret this moment to at least some degree for a long, long time, if she made it past the next couple days.

She could live with that.

So she ran. She ran as quickly as she could. Fuck aching muscles and burning lungs and throbbing sides. She ran and she called out, though it was more of a wheeze, "H-hey, um, hey w-wait for... um, wait for me."

And she made it. She made it into view, and the boy running things, he gave her an odd look and gestured for her to hurry, and she couldn't speed up but she made it anyways, and they did something to her collar and it fell away and she collapsed into the little raft and was ferried to the boat, and she just sat there and cried again, just like she always did.


And she didn't even notice until the boat pulled away that somehow the icepick had left her hand, that it was still lying there on the beach, glinting in the sun.

May Mid-Month Rolls
Ten minutes to get a tagged post up, if anyone's scrambling here.

May Mid-Month Rolls
Thirty minutes to get a tagged post up.

May Mid-Month Rolls
Huh. That clock lists 11:35 as London time. I think the intricacies of British timekeeping elude me.

Anyways, Lily is right on the deadline.

May Mid-Month Rolls
One hour and thirty minutes to get tagged posts up.

May Mid-Month Rolls
Specifically, this wraps at 11:33 GMT.

May Mid-Month Rolls
Five hours to get a tagged post up.

Just any stragglers are forewarned, we're going to be shutting this down pretty much exactly at the buzzer, barring some sort of disaster.

May Mid-Month Rolls
Twenty-two hours to get a tagged post up.

SOTF Audio
It sounds like a tall order, but could be very cool. I'm not a great reader, and tend to be busy a lot, but could maybe lend a hand now and then.

I assume you just mean V4, right? If you go back to earlier versions (and even some small segments of V4), you may need to do a little... grammar smoothing and reinterpreting. I can definitely help with that, if need be.

A way a lone a last
This wasn't going right. Something about this whole thing was just bugging Jennifer. It wasn't the girl, the girl who had barely spoken to her. It was something personal, some lingering unease around being with company. Jennifer liked people fine, liked spending time with them alright, but in moments of personal crisis she always preferred to be alone. She wanted to die alone, if at all possible, alone and peacefully, and somewhere clean, maybe.

And she just didn't have the energy right now to be her usual self, to put on that mask and act pleasant and caring. She was so burned out by all of this. She just wanted to go off and sit. Just sit and stare at something forever. So she tugged her socks and shoes on, stood, and said, "I, um, I'm sorry. It's just... I, um, I need some time to myself. This has been a really tough, um, past day for me."

She considered explaining further. Really, though, there was no polite way to say "My best friend died in front of me, and I ran away from the only other people I cared about because they were busy killing each other, and they probably won't survive for me to see them again and I don't know if I'd want to if they did." So she left things how they were. It felt strange, the whole situation. Jennifer was not very comfortable with prioritizing her own wants and needs, but, really, what else was left for her to do? She was staying alive for herself. Anyone else who really mattered had died or changed or just hurt her too much.

So she stood up, hoisting her pack, and gave a little wave at the girl, and took off at a jog. She was trying not to cry, trying to pretend that she hadn't just failed at basic human interaction, trying to pretend she had some idea as to what she was going to do, trying to pretend she wasn't lost and hurt and more alone than she'd ever been in her life.

((Jennifer Perez continued in A Slight Change of Plans))

I Was a Teenage Hand Model
Autumn's reaction showed quite well the continued deterioration of her mental state. Even if her comments did make a little sense—albeit not in any logical fashion, but on an emotional association level—Claire didn't want to stick around to see what new insanity she manifested. Autumn hadn't become violent at any point, but she'd gotten close. She was now suggesting that Claire leave. That had been Claire's goal ever since she figured out that Autumn wasn't quite there.

The only trick was doing this safely. She had to be very careful. She had to make sure there was no opportunity to spring a trap.

"Do not let her shoot you in the back."

So Claire backed away, keeping her gun up and aimed. Throughout this whole encounter, violence had seemed nearly inevitable, but now they were done with each other, finished with this little standoff. Autumn could finish her silly plan, and Claire could get back to work actually making it out of here alive, making it home to her parents.

"Bye," she said. She could've said more, but brevity seemed politic here.

She kept moving backwards, not dropping her guard for an instant, until she was under the cover of the swamp. Once she was sure Autumn didn't have a line of fire, she turned and headed back towards the center of the island. She'd find somewhere better next time, somewhere without unstable people. Assuming, of course, such a place still existed on this island.

((Claire Lambert continued in So Close))

Where Have All the Flowers Gone?
Somewhere else in the town, there was screaming and shit going on, all sorts of horrible nonsense Kimberly didn't really give a fuck about at the moment. No one came into the town center, though. She was starting to wonder just who was causing all that racket.

Of course, in the end, she didn't actually give a fuck. It was clearly not Kris. Kris' MO didn't involve messing around with torture. She was quick and efficient. It wasn't Brooks. He'd built his little murder nest, and nothing had occurred that would reasonably flush him from it. That meant someone else, some Maxwell or Nick Reid, was getting off on cutting someone's eyes out or some stupid shit like that. Kimberly didn't really see any reason to go investigate. All she was missing was the opportunity to watch someone else bleed out, to maybe fuck up some killer's fun. She could do it, she was sure, currently-crippled or not. Didn't matter. It would be a waste of time and energy. She was going to go accomplish her mission. She was going to find Bridget and Sarah and Roland and Kris, and she was going to find out exactly what she owed each of them and see them repaid in full.

She jerked back to her feet, wobbling a little. She'd been sitting too long. She reviewed the area once more, looking for anything she was missing. Nobody in sight. The screams had tapered off. Nothing left to do here.

The grave piqued her interest again. She still left it alone. She did bend to examine the flowers, though. They were still alive, not even wilted despite the lack of rain. In all likelihood, they drew water from the same source as the fountain. Kimberly considered the flowers that had not been trampled. She'd never really liked flowers all that much. They were too lively, too happy.

But today, maybe she'd make an exception. She was feeling a little whimsical. She plucked three of them, red and white and purple, twisted their stems together, broke them off a couple inches below the heads, and tucked them between the arm of her glasses and her head, behind her ear. She examined her reflection, straightening the accessory, ignoring how terrible she looked otherwise, ignoring how stupid her bare and bandaged left arm looked compared to the rest of her body, still concealed beneath her sweater. Whatever. Good enough.

Nothing more to do here. Any of her targets would surely have departed, given that noise. She'd just have to search them out elsewhere. Maybe the mountains, maybe the church, maybe the lighthouse, maybe the beach. Somewhere besides here. She'd figure it out as she went.

So off she went, back into the wilderness.

((Kimberly Nguyen continued in Dead Girls))

May Mid-Month Rolls
Exactly two days remaining to get a tagged post up.

Introduction Thread
Welcome to SOTF, twelve!

Be sure to check out the chat and the new handler's guide. If you have any other questions, feel free to PM me!