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No Such Thing as a Perfect Plan
As Aaron gave her the gloves and stripped wire, Aileen mumbled a token "thanks", put the gloves on, and continued fiddling with them.

However, Milo and DuClare shared her thoughts. To be honest, for once she couldn't blame them. Heck, Milo even admitted to being self-absorbed. If anything went wrong, people could die, either from being electrocuted or having their collars detonated for screwing with the collars. It was incredibly risky, and with those people standing nearby, who had already had someone close to them die....


Well, Aaron had his own way of dealing with them.


Aileen jumped as he began firing in their direction. Oh jesus christ, and he didn't learn from last time?! And this wasn't Rob Jenkins, either! These were two guys looking for their friend that had been killed! They had been doing nothing to them! They didn't seem to like it either, as they screamed and cussed at them as well, before running away.

Aaron... what did you DO? Were you trying to make people pissed off at you?

And as if he wanted to make matters worse... he had focused his attention on Milo now. Oh great, so now he was pointing that thing on his own team mates? Yup, he had lost his shit-

What the shit was he mouthing? "It was alright"? So another part of his plan involved randomly waving that thing around? Really? Damn. Okay, so maybe he was putting on a show to distract the camera or something, making it look like he had gone crazy while she did her thing. She hoped. She wasn't thinking straight. But still. She couldn't help but-

And then he focused his attention on her.

Aileen turned, and with trembling hands put the stripped wire on the camera's wire. Okay, that was there. She guessed that she had to put it on Milo's collar.

As she approached Milo with the wire, she couldn't help but wonder. Would this work? Would it save them all? Would it be a godsend? But it was going to fail... she was sure of that. No, it couldn't fail, could it?

"Milo, if this hurts... I'm sorry", she whispered.

Even if he was a douche, she still didn't want to hurt him. If he started complaining, she'd stop right there. If he was able to complain. Hopefully if it doesn't work, he would be able to.

Hopefully.

Away
Hey guys, just a heads up.

I'm most likely going to be out of town for the weekend. Hopefully I'll have Internet access, but there's a chance I won't, or I won't be on for very long.

Sean, I apologize for the further delay. If it helps, you still have GM rights over Aileen, so if you want to get Milo's death done this weekend and I'm not available feel free to use it. X3

Later, Buddy
The sobs kept coming.

She couldn't stop. She wanted to stop, but she couldn't. She wasn't sure if they'd ever stop.

She... she... she... she wanted to go home. For all this to end. For her not to suffer anymore. For no more people to die. She could keep wishing, but in the end, she knew that wasn't the case.

For Anna Chase, everything had gone to shit.

The crossbow slipped from her fingers, landing to the ground with a gentle thud.

She was distantly aware of Nick by this point, acting as if he wanted to approach her, but he seemed to hesitate and remained where he was. Well, he was a fucking killer, wasn't he? Why was he stalling? He had a perfect shot at her, but she was still standing. But she didn't want to die. She just wanted to know... he had no reason to hesitate and attack her, didn't he?

He mentioned something about owing her one, and....

He left.

Chase stared at him as he disappeared, the tears still pouring down her face.

What was there to do?

She was stuck here. This place continued to give her the creeps. She might get robbed again. Or something else might happen.

Slumping to the ground, she let out another burst of sobs, burying her face in her gloved hands.

This... this wasn't what she wanted. But what did she want? Well, for starters, no death. Absolutely no fucking death. In the past, Anna Chase wouldn't have said that, and would have jokingly made a comment about "more death". But not anymore.

No more death. No more death. No more fucking DEATH.

She hated Nick, and R.J., and Madeline Smith, and Quincy, and god knew who else. She hated everyone. Some part of her wished that they'd all go away. For all this shit to go away. She hated them, hated them!

For several more minutes Chase continued to melt down, her sobs loudly continuing.

Once they stopped, Chase stared at the ground, with her crossbow and bag nearby and what was left of Marty still on the ground, beginning to become cold.

She still didn't know what to do.

Her reddened eyes began to focus on Marty's corpse.

Suddenly, she began to wonder. Why did he run out like that? Nick wasn't threatening him directly. Heck, he was talking to her, not him. And it wasn't as if he would fight for her, right? She wasn't the kind of person people fought for. She had learned that a long time ago, with Kitty and What's-His-Face. It would be silly to think that he would die for her!

The best thing for him, though, was to not leave him out in the open. Give him a proper burial or cremation or something. But what could she do about it? There were no ways to dig a hole around, and although she kind of sort of knew how to make a fire, she had no clue how to make one big enough for cremation.

She... might as well at least look. That might as well be the thing to do right now.

Chase stood up, and grabbing her crossbow and her bag, began to investigate. As she approached the carousel, she couldn't help but notice that Joshua's body was gone. She would have given him something decent as well, but-

Was that a shovel?

She quickly scampered towards it.

Yup, a shovel. And not only that, but a grave-sized hole. There appeared to be a filled-up hole, as well. Another grave? Must be. She hadn't noticed it before, that was for certain. Both of them couldn't had been dug while all that was happening, could it?

Then she remembered. Marty! A hole had already been dug! Of course! Maybe it was reserved for someone else, but it could do nicely for him!

She placed her bag and crossbow on the carousel, and just as she turned to go get Marty, she hesitated. Blurred images of Gracie attacking her filled her mind, of being grabbed by the hair, of being dragged away while someone who could help couldn't... she stood there for almost a few minute, reliving the memory.

It wasn't that far to carry him over, was it? Maybe if she just placed the bag and crossbow... right inside one of the carriage/bench parts and under the seat? That could... actually work, or at least not make her freak out and much.

So she promptly did so, and went off to grab Marty.

As she approached, she actually got a proper look at him. His eyes had glazed over, staring off into nothing. What was his last thoughts, she couldn't help but wonder again. What provoked him?

Chase sighed. Might as well take him to his grave, then.

She grabbed him by his legs, and tried her best to drag him over. It took some difficulty considering the differences in size, but in the end, she had managed it. Chase slid his body into the hole, but suddenly she got an idea. He had that knife!

Running back over to where the fight had taken place, she didn't find it. Dang. It sounded silly, but she had wanted to bury it with him... and so she went back.

Now came the hard part; burying him.

Chase took a deep breath, and grabbed the shovel.

Any last words for him?

She couldn't think of any. But after a while, only one came up.

"... See you soon."

And with that, Marty disappeared under the dirt.

Once she was finished, she placed herself on the carousel, holding her knees to her chest and her head bowed.

She had been all cried out, but she still felt upset. Add in the exhaustion from the walking and from filling the hole, and needless to say she didn't feel so good. Chase knew it was inevitable, that she'd see death again. But it still hurt. Dawne, Jon, Rekka, Ben, Michelle, Joshua, Marty. They weren't coming back. She knew for a fact. Still didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

She might as well head out, then.

Grabbing her things from under the seat, she turned to leave, only to notice the shovel. Hey, one of those could actually be useful in the long run, now that she thought of it. But, she then remembered how her back had hurt from just the crossbow, the crowbar, and the gun. A shovel would be worse, would it? She had to make a choice, then; leave behind the crossbow, leave behind the crowbar, or leave behind the shovel. A crossbow had the advantage of being long-range. A crowbar had the advantage of being a bludgeon. A shovel had an advantage of also being a bludgeon, as well as things like what she had just been doing...

She had made her choice.

Placing the bag back on the ground, she slid out the crowbar, and tried to figure out what to do with it. Maybe stash it around here, so if she needed a weapon she could come back and find it? But what if someone found it? What if someone used it badly?

She wouldn't let that happen.

Chase had placed it in under the carriage parts of the carousel again, the exact same place as before. She hoped no one would notice it. If she needed a new weapon, though, she could always come back, right?

She grabbed the shovel, placed the crossbow in her bag as well as she could, and started to leave. However, she came to a horrifying realization once she was at the entrance.

Marty had Joshua and that crush of his die. She had seen how earlier he had tried to kill himself by busting a camera, only to be stopped. This was before Joshua had been killed. After he had died, she had found a full grave and an empty grave, with Joshua no where in sight. This after he ran directly in front of Nick. There was a possibility that the filled grave had Joshua in it and the empty grave was for...

Marty had wanted to die back there.

She didn't want to dwell on it.

And there was no telling that if she knew the whole picture, she'd react any better.

She just had to go.

((Anna Chase continued in Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This))
((End of thread))

No Such Thing as a Perfect Plan
So wait. Aaron had seen Quincy with Nick?

That's what he claimed, anyway. She wasn't sure that he was telling the truth, but there it was. Quincy had been running around with Nick according to him.

Aston seemed to think that was enough, so off she went.

Milo this entire time was demanding their attention further. Goody. As if he couldn't be any more annoying! After all, she really didn't even know what his problem was now. Didn't help that he had snarked at her, too. Thankfully, Aaron had been polite, and started to explain-

Announcements.



By the end Aileen stood in shock. So Polanski was dead, and by the sound of things Danya had sent some friends over to have tea with them, judging by his wording. "Friends of mine", indeed.

Fuck. As if all this shit couldn't get any worse.

Rob Jenkins had died too. She didn't know how she felt about that. Was she happy that he died, considering he...?

She could hear a scream coming from one of the boys, and suddenly she realized that not only did Polanski die, but one of their friends they had been looking for had died to. For a second, Aileen felt a pang of pity, but Aaron had made a decision before she could dwell on it.

Since there were terrorists now out and about on the island, it seemed as if they were actually going to try something. It was possibly something that would get them all killed, but maybe it was-

She read the paper he had thrust into her face. It was the same as before, but as she read along she had noticed it had changed.


Yup, something that was likely to kill them all. Goody. Apparently the plan was to basically fiddle around with the cameras, somehow without the terrorists noticing, and then put lord knows how many electrical volts directed at each other. Joy of joys! So many ways they could die from this!

Oh, and apparently she was person Numero Uno. Which meant her job was to fiddle with cameras and point electricity at people. Wonderful. Simply wonderful.

Aaron. Oh boy, Aaron. Did she have her doubts.

"Aaron, I-"

She cut herself off suddenly.

Damn. Did she really have to do it?

Sad thing was, it was the only idea they had. Shock each other with electricity. To be fair, it had a chance of defusing any radio transmissions coming from the collar. It was incredibly risky, both in the terrorists not noticing AND having just enough electricity to defuse it and at the same time not fucking killing people.

Deep sigh.

"Okay, Aaron. I'll fucking do it. But I need to let you know that if anything goes wrong, we're screwed", she grumbled.

And with that, she stood up, and for a few seconds looked for a camera. Damn, she really needed to get in the habit of actually counting the-

Oh, there was one. Right on that other stump. Okay, first part.

She went directly to its side. She could notice the camera slowly swiveling about, attempting following their every move. Well, they were keeping an eye on them, that was for certain. She had to be quick, stealthy, and sneaky.

After a few seconds, she found what appeared to be a wire coming down from it. So there was one. Okay. And now...

"Aaron, gimme the gloves, will you?"

Later, Buddy
She could just shoot him.

She could get him, get revenge.

So why couldn't she do it?

She never really wanted to kill. She knew that. But she was so scared and sad and angry and god knows what else. Was she really going to shoot after all?

But she wasn't a natural killer. Was she? She always saw herself as an innocent, someone who would never hurt someone else. She wasn't Maxwell Lombardi or Madelaine Smith or R.J. Lowe or Rachel Gettys or Nick Reid or Quincy Jones or Alex Rasputin. She was Anna Chase, right? But what then defined Anna Chase? She was here, pointing a crossbow at Marty's murderer.

Anna.

Anna.

He was saying her name.

She was going to hell, he said. She was going to be damned if she ever pulled that trigger. Was she? No, she was already in hell. That sounded like something "Pandora" would say, but there you go. Did it even look like she was having a fun time? Did it look like she was safe? Did she look like someone who wasn't suffering?

Of course not.

She was already in hell. Did he seriously think that she hadn't suffered already?! That was what the definition of hell was. Suffering. Anna Chase was suffering.

It all sounded melodramatic, but there it was. The truth. She wasn't happy. Far from it.

"N..." she had attempted to speak. "Ni..."

Say something, girl.

But she couldn't. Nothing could come out.

Her hands were still shaking. She could get him, right on the spot. If she stayed steady... if she got rid of that thing known as a conscience... then Nick would... well, he wouldn't be standing anymore. She would have avenged Marty and defended herself, right? She would live for another day. She wasn't sure if she was ever going to go home, but she'd live for another day. That was what was important.

But she couldn't. She couldn't fire. She was unable to. Her finger kept faintly touching the trigger, but she couldn't pull. She couldn't do it.

And suddenly Chase lowered the crossbow.


She... wouldn't.


And without any warning signs, she found herself making a choked sob. There was nothing she could do to prevent herself from crying. All of her emotions were flooding out like a leak in a dam, right at that moment. No, crying wasn't going to help. Nick might find an opportunity to get her. He was using her emotions against her. Damn it. She didn't want to get emotional.

But here she was, sobbing like a child in some fairground on some deserted island and holding a crossbow. She was... pathetic. But she had to live, right? That's one of the main things she wanted. She wasn't sure what reasons she felt she had to live, but the desire was there. But... but... oh hell, what "buts" were there?

No Such Thing as a Perfect Plan
Oh, look who had finally been woken up by the new person.

Milo had been spending most of the time either fast asleep or in a daze. Honestly, she couldn't blame him. And to be frank, it was possibly the best thing for him to be doing right now. Aileen could remember when he attracted Jacquard over by screaming that he was going to skull-fuck her. Compared to that, she'd prefer him to be asleep. Sure, he could actually be helping them plan things out, but sleeping was nice compared to his... past antics. Especially right now. Aileen still wasn't in the best of moods after that announcement.

But now he was up. He had promptly announced this by... appearing to scream into his bag. Aileen stared for a few seconds, and went back to the new girl. Okay? Now what-

Oh hell. He was asking her what he was doing the past few days? She honestly had no clue. If screaming at killers that you want to skullfuck them, making fun of their names, and feeling insulted over being called a "Ron" counted as something, sure. But he was probably asking about being asleep and/or dazed this entire time.

But it didn't help he had called himself a "lion blooded demigod". If by "lion blooded demigod" he meant "complete moron", well, sure, that would be a yes. Not only a yes, but a yes with flying fucking colors.

"You've been sleeping like a sack of potatoes", she mumbled, reaching up to rub her head again.

Okay, the last time she had a conversation with him, it didn't end well. For a few seconds, she almost expected it to end in some way similar. She didn't know, him screaming about how he wasn't a potato and that he wants to stab Lombardi in the butt with a fork or something. He wasn't that predictable, certainly. But you never know.

But enough of Milo.

After prompting from Aaron, new girl(?) introduced herself as Aston Bennett, and revealed her weapon; a small gun, a Bersa. Good news, she wasn't planning on attacking. Bad news, she was asking them whether they met two people and implying that... well, yeah. So someone who had a grudge against two people was now asking them if they had seen certain people implicitly so she could fucking kill them. That... that... she didn't even know what to make of that. Sure, some part of her still wanted to find Nick Reid, Hartmann, and Jenkins, and get back, but now... now? They were dealing with some girl who seemed to want revenge against someone, for reasons that weren't explained. She wasn't sure just how bad a thing it was.

And, oh hell. More people?

One of them she recognized, though once again, she couldn't remember his name. But she did remember that he apparently had a werewolf fetish or something along those lines. Maybe one of those "furry" things? She had no clue. The other guy, though... damn, who is that? It seemed as if the furry guy was the one doing all the talking and acting, though.

And oh great. Their new job, it seemed, was not to escape the island, but to find miscellaneous people that were lost. Two new people they had to look out for; someone named Rena Peters, and someone else named Saul Fetteralf, the "husky mascot". If she were in a better mood, she'd honestly make a comment about the guy obsessed with werewolves wanting to find someone wearing a husky mascot outfit. That's what these "furry" people liked, right, mascot outfits?

But, more importantly, she was sure that they hadn't ran into any of these people, at least not recently. Heck, they hadn't seen anyone else over at least two days by this point, she was sure.

"Guys... we haven't seen anyone else but each other for days..." she grumbled, answering both questions at once.

Would they stick around? Maybe. Heck, furry guy would be good in case they needed strength, judging by his looks. But these three people were off looking for someone else, including two people that the girl apparently wanted to murder.

Later, Buddy
And thus the two teens stared each other down.

If she were in a better state of mind, she'd crack a joke about two cowboys staring each other down like in old Westerns, where a tumbleweed would roll by and then one would draw a gun and shoot the other person in the face.

But this wasn't a Western movie. Oh no. This was Survival of the Fittest, where the killers were sent onto the death island and like to hang around in carnivals where killers like to hang out. And she was now dealing with Nick Reid. Who had killed Marty. And what's more, she was pointing a crossbow at him, and he was just...

Standing there.

In the fear, sadness and anger that had clouded Chase's mind, there was also confusion. He should react in some way. Try to kill her too. That's what killers did, right? They were supposed to kill. And he had a perfect opportunity to just run up and jab her with that thing. Just like... what happened with Marty.

No, Marty had ran towards him, and then got stabbed.

It seemed like eternity. Her shaking hands holding the crossbow. Him staring. Her staring back. Marty on the ground.

And finally, someone spoke. He essentially asked what she was waiting for.

Was she going to shoot?

Was she?

She was just saving her own life, right? And she was scared and angry and....

"M-m-maybe", Chase snapped. "Why... why shouldn't I fire? You killed him and-and-and he- I- I was looking for him and he's- you've..."

This time, she could only barely speak. Her stutter had gotten to the point where she could almost barely string together a sentence. Her hands continued to shake as she pointed the crossbow, and she was distantly aware that tears were streaming down her face. But she couldn't be crying, right? Chase didn't want to be crying. That was the last thing she could be doing right now.

She could have saved Marty and Joshua if... she had been... more... courageous? Was that the word?

And now she was staring at one of their murderers, asking if she was waiting for something.

But the question she had to ask herself sometime soon was "Was she?".

No Such Thing as a Perfect Plan
((Aileen Borden continued from Could Have Been Worse))

One word summed up how Aileen felt right now.

Miserable.

That announcement still rang in her head.

Rob Jenkins was still alive. And he... he murdered Lily. She didn't make it after all. And not only that... Richard Han. Toppled off a cliff.

Announcements were already painful enough for Aileen. It wasn't like she liked listening to them or something. But each time she heard that fuckheaded douchebag blather on, it was a reminder. It reminded them of how much time they had, and who they were unable to save. They were unable to save Reika, they were unable to save Trevor, they were unable to save Tom, and now they were unable to save Lily and Richard. And those were only the names Aileen recognized. They had to save as many people as possible, and there was already a sizable body count.

And now Lily and Richard were gone.

Even now, Aileen's mind was a whirlwind of emotions.

Sometimes she would feel sad. Sometimes she would feel angry. At what, though, she didn't know. Sometimes she would get angry at that fucker who had put them here in the first place, sometimes she would get angry at Rob for killing Lily, sometimes she would get angry at Jacquard for putting the group into chaos, sometimes she would get angry at Aaron for running away and leaving them behind, and sometimes she would even get angry at Richard and Lily simply for dying.

To be honest, she didn't know what exactly to feel.

Aileen didn't cry or anything. She wasn't the type to cry. But, she had been feeling a little out of it since that announcement. She was still trying to be alert, but she wasn't feeling so good.

Maybe the island was finally catching up with her.

Maybe that was it.

Home. It was where she wanted to be. She wanted to be somewhere familiar, not this shithole. It wouldn't bring anyone who died back, but it would help if one day she could make it home with as many people alive as possible. She didn't believe in this "last man standing" nonsense. She didn't buy it.

So, for the longest period of time, Aileen had been quiet, even more so than she was back at school. Right now, she had propped herself on a stump, face buried downwards in her hands.

It had seemed awfully quiet for a while. Aaron had talked to DuClare about what she knew, and neither she nor Milo knew what was up. Milo, she could get, but her? Bah.

But in any case, it had been actually been pretty quiet. Usually an entire swarm of people would come in, doing god knows what. And thank god for that. Aileen was not in the mood to deal with random groups of people jumping in and asking-

Oh hell. Speak of the devil.

She lifted her head towards this new... person. At first she thought it was a guy, but on closer inspection? It was a girl... or at least, she thought it was a girl.

And oh look. She(?) was asking if they were busy. Oh no, not at all. It wasn't like they had lost most of their group over the past few days since they got here and they were trying to escape but with no avail. Nope, they had all the time in the world to get killed by... whoever this was. Seriously, hopefully someone would recognize her or something? She looked vaguely familiar, like most of her classmates, but you know. Aileen, as we all know by now, wasn't good with names.

"Uh... kinda. You'll... you'll have to talk to Aaron..." she mumbled, rubbing her forehead. "He's kind of the man with the plan..."

She didn't even have the energy right now to yell at people as usual, or at least not as much. She just felt tired and slightly depressed, is all. Maybe if it turned out she was something like Jacquard, she would start yelling again. But, well.

But, she had to keep her guard up, as usual. She couldn't spend this entire time worrying about those who had been killed, like Reika, Trevor, Tom, Lily, Richard, and god knew who else. Her hammer was secured right next to her on the stump, so if someone tried to get them, she could fight them off. She could grab it in a heartbeat if she ever attacked the group. Anyone. That included her, Aaron, DuClare, and yes, even Mil-ron. Because you know what? No one was going to mess with the group again on her watch.

Absolutely no one.