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Little Pig
Alright, so no staying here, then. Jennifer didn’t mind that all that much. It wasn’t that bad in here, the ransacked and decrepit feel aside. But Bart was clearly starting to get uncomfortable. Maybe it was the room itself, maybe it was the situation. Maybe he didn’t like being here, being an artist himself. No matter the reason, he didn’t like staying here. That was obvious. It was probably a good idea to get going, anyways. It was okay right now, but later, when it’s night time? Colder? Probably not a good idea.

“Right,” she said. “We should get going.”

Jennifer lifted herself up, soothing out her skirt once more. She still silently cursed her decision to wear a skirt and heels. It might, might, be a good idea to find some better clothes and shoes somehow. But alas, she got another reminder of her decision as her shoes clicked against the floor with each step she took towards the table once again.

“Where should we head to? Ideas?” she asked as she lifted the bag off the table, sliding the strap over her shoulder.

Kiziah had a good point she hadn’t realized before. If some degenerate came by to investigate the sound, they were right in the path for that. Again, Jennifer hadn’t checked the map much as of yet, but there was a good chance that, if they were nearby, a classmate with murderous intentions could come by and look into the room.

But something else got her attention as Kiziah looked at the map. When Jennifer noticed something nearby the bag, her eyes locked onto it.

She had another question.

“Kiziah,” she added. “Did you get a gun?”

She wasn’t sure what to think about that.

Notes from an Even Smaller Island
((Emma Luz continued from You Could Have a Dream About Losing Your Friends))

People can survive anything.

Emma knew this all too well. Growing up in Kingman’s prepper community meant that she had an idea of how far people were willing to go to survive. Of course, the community did have its fair share of people who were willing to believe pseudoscience, conspiracy theories, and other myths. Some of them even believed that there was going to be some kind of doomsday event looming over them someday. However, the fact that such a community would exist at all meant one thing: people wanted to survive. Emma thought of Grandpa Gregory. He had a long life, and experienced tons of things. Emma could remember that they’d used to joke that his blood was practically motor oil by this point, and that he was going to live forever. She’d also read various stories of people’s attempts to survive. She liked reading stories about zombies and post-apocalyptic scenarios. Call it morbid, but there was something fascinating about reading about people trying to survive against the odds.

Point is, Emma knew that if you put someone in a dangerous situation, they will try to live. Human determination was just that powerful. And that made Emma feel a little more confident. She was still drowsy, sure, but the chemically induced feeling had almost worn off. Now that she was feeling a bit better, though, she remembered the assignment she had to do in Social Studies. As she leaned against Amanda, she tried to remember details from it. People survived it too, of course. Not just the “winners,” either.

The goal for the next few days was to stay alive, obviously. Hopefully that shouldn’t be too much of an issue, and that they could find food, water, and a safe place to stay easily. She wasn’t sure how long they’d be here, but it was good to assume that it was for about a week.

They had made their way upstairs, and found themselves in what she guessed was a hospital ward. It was, by far, a better place to stay than the lab in the basement. While it was still somewhat dim, there was natural light peeking out of a window. So far, they hadn’t seen any disturbing things like the diagram, which was a plus. Sure, there were barred windows, but it was a step up. It didn’t seem as claustrophobic, either, and not as wet.

Jaime and Lucilly were ahead, but they had stopped when Amanda had told them to wait up. Oh, a bed?

“Finding a place to stay would be nice,” Emma said, in thought. “I mean, in here. It seems tons better than the basement, at least.”

Amanda seemed to be having some difficulty with her leaning against her like this. Emma did feel a bit better, so it might be good to stop for the time being?

“I’m feeling a bit better. Is it alright if I try walking a bit?” she asked.

You Could Have A Dream About Losing Your Friends
Emma, hesitated, then nodded.

“Sure,” she said, leaning close to Amanda.

Did she really look that bad? She guessed so. Emma felt bad, but she probably looked worse. There’d been a few times where people noticed that she looked sick, before she realized that she actually was. Sure, she knew her own body pretty well, but you know. Sometimes people noticed things she didn’t. But, to everyone, it seemed pretty clear just how terrible she felt. Then again, she did talk about her health issues back home, so they could have remembered, too.

Her flashlight lit up the hallway as they walked outside. A sign on the door confirmed her suspicions. Lobotomy lab. Yeah, it was probably even more of a good idea to leave. A few days, in a cold, dark, and damp place, where people did horrible things? It was enough to make anyone completely miserable.

Hopefully they’d find somewhere warm and comfortable. Hopefully the food and water wouldn’t run out, and they’d get more. Hopefully, if they ran into someone else, they’d be friendly. Hopefully her friends and family were okay. Hopefully they could go home soon.


((Emma Luz continued in Notes from an Even Smaller Island))

Helvetica Standard
((Junko Kurosawa continued from 96+ Quite Bitter Beings. Everything in here’s approved, but lemme know if something needs to change.))

Man, what was this shit? It was like something out of a horror game, swear to god. Was some crazy doctor wannabe gonna slice off her fingers? But yeah, it looked like they’d been tossed in what had to be the unholy mixture of Alcatraz and Arkham Asylum. Or something. Junko wondered how they managed to find a place like this to host their death game.

Anyways, she was now in some kind of library. Books were in good condition, which was strange. Junko wasn’t much of a book person. Sure, she could appreciate all the effort people put into getting kids to read, especially in the era of Google. But, she was more of a go-out-and-play person. Books were entertaining, but they weren’t entertaining the same way going to the skate park was, you know? She did like comics, yeah. But you know. But Junko may or may not have snuck a book into her bag. May. Eh, it was reading material.

Junko zipped up her bag, and saw a shadow. She swore to god her heart skipped over a beat. She slid closer, looking behind a bookcase. Jazzy Reed, huh? She was close with people like Caedyn. Junko’s experiences with Caedyn… weren’t positive. Not only that, but Jasmine was a weeb. A weeb who wanted to go to Japan. A weeb who drew in a “manga” style. A weeb who had absolutely no interest in anything that wasn’t Japanese. That kind of weeb. It wasn’t a secret that certain anime fans annoyed Junko, but she had to think.

Jazzy wasn’t paying attention to her bag, sitting on the chair next to her.

Junko knew she had to make a decision at some point. Four bottles would only last a few days, at most. She’d been reduced to three, because of Darius being a moron. Even if he wasn’t a moron, where was she going to get more? Drinking too much water could give you runner’s cramps, yeah, but know what’s worse? Dehydration. Not fun. She never found out how to filter water so that it was safe to drink, or anything. Of course, one way had occurred to her. Everyone had gotten four bottles. Darius had wasted all of his and one of hers, but there you go. Four total. Which meant that if she was up to it…

She slid the bat out of the bag.

She stepped closer.

Jazzy seemed to have noticed the sound, and looked up. But she looked back down.

She’d found someone. And Jazzy, Jazzy was someone who she didn’t like. But was it worth it? She was someone annoying, and was willing to hang around an even more annoying person. But she knew, in the back of her brain, that what she was considering was wrong. But she pushed it away. She pushed away the memory of beating Darius, and she pushed away her doubts. A conscience wouldn’t help her any, would it?

Junko thought of Jazzy and Caedyn, and her grip tightened.

It wouldn’t.

Junko was right behind Jasmine. She’d looked up again, her finger wedged into the book. But it was too late. The bat went swinging into the back of her head. Jazzy fell, hitting her head against the desk before landing on the floor.

Everything else was on automatic. Junko felt herself moving quickly towards the chair with the bag. She felt herself pull the strap over her shoulder with her free hand. She felt the weight of the bags on two shoulders. Jazzy might have said or done something, but she wasn’t paying attention.

Instead, Junko ran. The bags beat against her sides as she sprinted towards the exit. The door swiftly loomed into sight. Her vision blurred, only focusing on it. It felt like the world’s most twisted track event ever.

Her hand touched the doorknob, and turned. For a second, Junko looked behind her, but looked away. She opened. She ran outside.

The door closed behind her.

((Junko Kurosawa continued in Slow Motion Rocky Punches))

SOTF Halloween Movie Night
Can we add Hocus Pocus? It's one of my favorite Halloween kids' movies in the entire world. <3

Also, I think it's silly enough? It has a strange fixation on the main dude's virginity, at least. And some quotable lines. If we can suggest some, that's my pick.

But yeah, I'm interested! I'll probably be home around 3:30pm PST, but my mom might want the computer for a while longer. I think about 7:00pm would be a good time.

Little Pig
Bart was right, or at least Jennifer agreed with him. It could be someone trying to call others over. But for what purpose, it could be any number of things. Someone could be trying to find some allies, or at least someone useful. They could be a killer. She wasn’t sure if people were killing already, and she didn’t want to know. What if someone could be banking on the idea that someone would come over and investigate? Then they’d… do what was asked.

Of course, if they heard it, other people probably did too. All kinds of people. The naïve, the curious, the scared… and the dangerous. Panicked people and murderous people just wasn’t something she wanted to deal with- especially if they had weapons and were potentially in a crowded place.

“No,” Jennifer snapped, but recomposed herself. She tried again, her voice quieter. “No. I don’t think it’s a good idea. If we heard it, others did too. If someone with a gun showed up and wanted to use it, well…”

She continued to wrap her arms around herself in thought.

“It might be good to figure out if we’re staying here or heading elsewhere, though.”

You Could Have A Dream About Losing Your Friends
Emma briefly looked back down at her bag, and slowly unzipped. Right away, she saw what she guessed was food and water. A few bottles were laid side by side, along with some bars and some bread. Placed just beside the bottle was a flashlight, which Emma picked up. At least it was thoughtful of them to give them a light source? She guessed? Still didn’t make up for the fact that they were here, though.

Emma saw a first aid kit, also convenient. And… was that a coil of metal? She almost grabbed it, only to realize what it was, even in the dim light. Barbed wire.

She could have easily nicked herself open if her hand was only an inch closer. The last thing she needed was tetanus. What was she supposed to do with barbed wire? Back at home, you used it to keep coyotes out. They’d raised chickens, and you didn’t want a coyote in. But would it protect them against dangerous classmates here? For a moment, Emma pictured all the ways someone could kill someone else with wire. She stopped just as she pictured it being used to strangle someone, the barbs digging into their neck. Emma felt her skin crawl at the thought.

Emma looked up again, and saw Lucilly holding a magazine of some kind. She squinted her eyes at it, only to tear her head away once she saw a flash of flesh. Emma felt her face contort. What was that? A woman? Doing things? But that looked painful. Did they really expect them to find a way to murder someone with… no. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to look at it any more. It was gross.

Emma decided to stop her own search then and there. They were probably going to leave soon, anyways. Though, she did flick on her flashlight. Amanda had put hers away, and it was good to have a source of light no matter what.

“Hang on, gimme a sec…” she said. “Still feeling unwell.”

She still wasn’t sure if she could stand without help, much less walk. Did they know about her health problems? It was something that she didn’t try to hide nowadays, largely because it was more convenient for people to know. Emma was sure it was mostly the gas, but still. Her muscles ached and begged as she attempted to stand. Two feet flat on the ground, and she pulled herself up. Well, she could stand now, which was good. The hard part was, though, slinging the strap over her shoulder. It felt like a bunch of weights. She felt like a zombie. A few white flashes flicked around in her vision. She still felt somewhat nauseous and disorientated, but she was making good progress. She slowly stepped towards the exit. Her boots squeaked with each baby step.

“Loony bin?” she asked. “Well, it does appear to be a run-down operating room. And, um…”

She stopped for a second. With her free hand, she pointed at the diagram she’d noticed a few minutes ago.

“I think they did lobotomies in here. Basically, if you’re unruly, they’d stick a pick into your brain and-“

Emma cut herself off. Wow. She really wasn’t helping, wasn’t she? The last thing anyone wanted to hear about in a survival situation was outdated and cruel treatment methods. But knowing that they were in some kind of mental asylum, that was helpful. Maybe they’d have supplies that’d hold up for a few days. Shelter and hiding spots, too.

She rubbed her face. She needed to leave. She wouldn’t be cold, she’d get some fresh air so that she could breathe and think, and she needed to feel comfortable. It would help everyone else, too.

"Right. Let's go, then."

Little Pig
That’s right. 276 girls were abducted from a school in Nigeria. And then they went through such horror. What was worse was, most of them were still missing, if she remembered correctly. A year. A year had passed, and they still weren’t saved.

A chill went up and down Jennifer’s spine. If it took more than a year to solve that, a week would be a stretch here. Would it? She didn’t want to give up hope so soon.

She wasn’t sure about what to say to that, or to Bart’s sobs. She wanted to go home, she wanted to graduate, she wanted to live. Jennifer pulled her arms tighter around herself. Yes, she was angry, but to be honest… she was also shaken. Never did she think she’d have to deal with something like this. She didn’t want to cry, but she did feel her skin tremble.

“Technology?” she said. “Maybe collars like ours... well, they had to have been made somewhere, right? Even if they made them… they still ordered the supplies. And maybe that could…”

She wasn’t sure where she was going with that.

Aside from explosives, metal, and whatever else it took to make a collar, they would have had to order food, weapons, and other materials en masse. No matter how, it could have raised suspicions with anyone they bought from. It might have distinctive features, too. It was obvious it had been previously inhabited, so someone could recognize it from footage.

But would that help? They could wonder about ways they could be saved all day, but it wouldn’t change anything unless they actually did get rescued.

Something interrupted Jennifer’s thoughts, and her head snapped up at the sound. At first, she had no idea what the hell it could be. Her head turned, looking for the source. It sounded like it was some ways away. Not too distant, but still a walk’s away. Then she realized what it could be. She did see a map, but she only looked at it briefly. However, it was possible there was a belfry here. That definitely sounded like someone ringing a bell, at least.

Jennifer frowned.

“You hear that?” she whispered. “What the hell does someone think they’re doing?”

It had to be a belfry. What would the point of ringing a bell here, though?

Meanwhile idea
Prologue says:
The evening of the disappearance a candlelight vigil was held outside of Cochise High School. Even at the event, nobody voiced the one possibility that made sense.

So there is actually an official confirmation that where was a memorial service of sorts! Unless you're thinking of something else?

I'm interested, and I was thinking something like this, too. It's an idea full of possibilities. O:

96+ Quite Bitter Beings
Suddenly, a hard object hit the side of Junko’s skull. Before she could react, Darius pushed her away and stood up, running. Damn it, the thing he threw at her- the bottle, the one he wasted- bought him time to escape. He was already several feet away before she realized what was happening.

She saw the bat, still laying on the ground. With another growl, Junko picked it up with her free hand, and stood up. She stomped the direction Darius went.

Her feet pounded down the stairs, making loud noises against the metal. But, she realized quickly, she was too late for that. Darius had left for real. Good, she decided. He was probably off to try the same bullshit on someone else.

She stepped back upstairs, her heart still pounding from the anger and adrenaline. She saw the bottle still on the ground. Still no idea what she was going to do about the water he just poured out, like it was damn unimportant. Her blood still boiled at the thought.

Junko sat back down next to her pack, and took a closer look at the sharp object. The chisel still had streaks of red on it, from when she slashed Darius’ cheek. She wiped it against the bottle of her tank top, only to realize that was a bad idea. It left a stripe of dark red. Junko let out a frustrated sigh.

Damn it, Darius. Again, no clue about what she was going to do about the water. She didn’t know how to filter water. She was probably going to end up dehydrated or getting some sort of disease, because she just had to give him a bottle. He didn’t just drink from it, no. Instead, he poured it out. He probably did the same shit to his own water, too. Gah, she knew she shouldn’t have trusted him.

Her limbs were still shaking.

The feeling of adrenaline, of anger, had started to simmer down, though, and-

She’d hurt someone.

She attacked Darius.

When Junko was younger, she occasionally got into trouble because she was fighting on campus. It was nothing huge. If anything, it was her and her friends screwing around. They did get into hot water with the teacher, yeah, but they weren’t trying to hurt each other. It was an odd thing to realize, but it was the first actual fight she’d been in, even without the death game thing.

But she still hurt someone, caused them to bleed. For a moment, a feeling of dread passed over her. Junko decided to push it aside. Well, he had it coming, didn’t he? He decided to waste her things on stupid shit when, you know, she needed it, and she gave it to him out of kindness. He also tried to slit her throat. With a chisel, yeah, but it was a clear attempt. Even if she attacked him first… it still happened. Plus, he could have been dangerous.

She had her reasons. A few times, her brain tried to come up with counterpoints, but her arguments seemed to be stronger. Junko didn’t feel like she could feel too sorry for Darius. At least she got a chisel out of it. At least Darius might not try that again.

At least she knew what she was capable of. In a way, it was nice to get confirmation that if someone else decided to screw around with her she could easily deal with it. Okay, yeah, that’s a bit of a messed-up thought process, but there you go. As cruel as it sounded… she tried to push her conscience away.

After making sure the chisel was clean, she slid it into the pocket of her cargo pants. The bat went into the bag, its handle sticking out of an unzipped hole. She didn’t think she was too injured after the fight. Her legs, chest, and head still ached a bit, but she didn’t think it was anything stronger than bruises. She might have to check soon, though, see for herself if it was any bad. When she stood up, her limbs felt both loose and tight at once.

She still played the memory of Mr. Graham getting shot in her brain. The memory of Darius pouring out her water still got her heated up. But, Junko figured, in a way it was motivation. She didn’t want to die like Graham, and she didn’t want to deal with any more idiots like Darius. She still didn’t think she was a killer, but if someone decided to screw with her she was going to go down swinging.

About half an hour later, Junko left the helipad.

((Junko Kurosawa continued in Helvetica Standard))

I Know What My Fortune Is
"I guess I did ask her about it? But she just showed up, and acted as if I forgot. It was weird, man."

Junko shrugged. She’d look into that later.

“Don’t feel too bad. At least you didn’t have to listen to Darius mangling rock songs in Japanese. I mean, yeah, say what you want about the dance, at least the music’s better. Probably

She laughed. Though, again, if he had shown up earlier he could’ve wrangle Darius a bit and make him back off of Raina.

Oh, his phone? Didn’t he have a date? Did they want to text him about the evening? Cris had a lot of people he knew, and… who was his date again? Something else she needed to look into. She looked at the fire, noticing that it was becoming dimmer.

"Ah, I need to feed the flames, huh?" she muttered, mostly to herself.

Damn it, fire needs food. Food, as in, wood. Things to burn. That. She had some things like that to keep it going.

Hopefully it'd be enough for the rest of the evening.

New V5 Reduced Activity Notices
Hey, just so you know, I have things to take care of this week. Math things. I'll still lurk the forums and Skype a bit, but it might take longer to post.

96+ Quite Bitter Beings
Darius lost his balance. But it didn’t stop there. Junko felt Darius’ foot slam against hers, and the two fell to the ground. That didn’t do wonders for Junko’s anger. The bat nearly slipped out of her fingers for a second, but she pulled it into her hands tighter.

The bat went swinging into his chest. Each connected hit was like slow motion. The bat slipped again, and soon fell out of her hands and onto the ground. She barely paid attention, and instead resorted to using her fists. Punch after punch rained down onto Darius.

Somewhere in there, she heard Darius curse. She didn’t pay attention to that, either. Her main focus was her fists pounding against him. Her heart raced, like it was in the middle of a sprint. The main things fueling her were rage and adrenaline.

But even then, she noticed the thing Darius was holding was against her. Against her neck. He was going to stab her with it. Slit her throat, something. Without thinking, her hand rose up and reached for his wrist. His arm was moving, and it took some effort. But she grabbed him with a tight grip. She could barely move his arm. She didn’t think Darius was that strong, but fuck. Her lips curled into a snarl.

With her free arm, she went for another punch, this time towards the face. She felt something crack, but it got lost in the shuffle. But Darius’ grip on the object loosened, and she tore it from his hand. But he still struggled underneath her. His arms swung. His legs kicked. He tried to grab it again.

She did the only thing she could think of, and swiped it across his cheek. A flash of red followed.

You Could Have A Dream About Losing Your Friends
Emma frowned. On one hand, it was good that no one encountered someone dangerous. On the other, she’d been hoping that they would have ran into a friend or one of her relatives. It was a naïve thought, sure, but it didn’t hurt asking. But, like her, no one had encountered anyone else. But everyone had stayed safe thus far, which was a plus. Lucilly also said that she didn’t want to run into anyone else, either. In a way, Emma could respect that. On the other, she still was antsy about who was in danger and who to watch out for.

“I haven’t checked yet,” she said in response to Amanda’s question. “I… was kind of in-and-out before you guys found me. I could look, though?”

Emma looked around, and saw her bag, still sitting on the floor where she’d left it. She leaned forward, and with another groan she pulled it up by the strap and put it onto her lap. Presumably, that’s where they’d put it. It looked like Amanda’s rifle was too big, so that might not have been the case. It was worth looking in there, though. But Jaime’s idea made her stop, and look around again.

Amanda’s flashlight revealed more details of the room they were in. Large puddles littered the ground, the light reflecting off of them. It looked like there was mold from the moisture, since there were some dark spots on the walls and ceiling. A cold and wet place could mean someone getting sick. Spending a few days in a dark, wet, and cold room with no windows seemed unpleasant, too. She couldn't possibly imagine staying here for days on end. Maybe one, but no more. It did have the benefit of hiding spots, though. Amanda did say she didn’t see anyone else in here at first, did she?

But the flashlight had landed on something that got Emma’s attention. While the boxes did cast shadows along the room, she noticed that the light highlighted a yellowed poster on the wall. It was a little dim, but it appeared to show a cross-section of the human skull. As she continued looking at it, a look of disgust passed over her face as she noticed more details. It showed a needle going through someone’s eyes and into the frontal lobe area. A disturbing enough image as-is, but Emma had taken Psychology as an elective. She still couldn’t believe that people did that as a treatment. It was beyond cruel, and it was often for unnecessary things.

It wasn’t something good to stare at for the next few days.

“Holing up somewhere’s a good idea,” she said, adjusting herself nervously. “Just… not here. We might end up sick and miserable over the next few days.”

Little Pig
Jennifer couldn’t believe it, either. You’d think SOTF was one of those things that’d just… disappear. To never happen ever again. To become a thing of the past. Apparently not. Everyone learned that in 2012, and now they were learning it again in 2015. It was one of the biggest travesties in years, and… here they were, stuck god knew where.

She wished that she could believe that this was some kind of prank too. But what kind of prank goes this far? You’d need to have a lot of time, money, and energy to pull off something of this magnitude. No, it was real, as far as Jennifer could tell.

Jennifer pulled herself back towards the table. She’d been sitting down at the art table before her… outburst, but as she placed herself in front of it, she noticed Kiziah and Bart had to make do. Bart was on the floor, while Kiziah was leaning against the tree. Well, it wouldn’t be fair, would it? Instead, she moved away. It was better to let them have her space. Instead, Jennifer knelt down, adjusting and soothing out her skirt as she did. She’d been dressing for a day out at the museum, so she didn’t think of putting on something more practical for physical activity that morning. If she had known, she would not have worn a skirt and heels. Then again, if she had known, she probably wouldn’t have gone on the trip at all.

She wasn’t good at emotional conversations. But she had to speak up.

“You know… I can’t believe it either. I keep hoping that this is some messed-up dream, or that it’s the world’s most elaborate prank. But it can’t be, it just can’t.”

Jennifer pulled her arms around herself, feeling herself shake. Her muscles were tense. It felt like heat was coming out of her eyes.

She remembered writing posts about SOTF on her blog. It was topical, so it was worth sharing her opinions on. It was vile. Truly and simply vile. She’d heard all kinds of stories, too. Jennifer remembered hearing that there were some twisted parts of the deep web that had footage. It wasn’t something she’d dare find out for herself. There were always trolls, too. Of course, there were also politicians willing to use it as part of their agenda, no matter what it was. But the worst part was how the government let it happen six times.

“Just… six times. Six times, it could have been stopped. I just simply can’t believe that the CIA or FBI can’t just… investigate what’s going on, and put a stop to it. I swear to god, if we don’t get rescued soon -“

Jennifer’s voice had raised, but she caught herself off. Her blood had started boiling again. It was a good idea to stop where she did.

I Know What My Fortune Is
Well, they took it well, at least? Aiden had walked up next to Fiyori to talk. Junko guessed that whatever the hell he and Johnny were talking about, it was about Fiyori. Doing things to Fiyori, if we had to be accurate. Or something. They were making suggestive hand gestures when they talked, of course. But yeah, it seemed like it wasn’t as awkward as it looked. Seemed, at least. Hopefully whatever it was blowed over quickly? Whether it was boning or something else.

Raina was tough, yeah. She was… no-nonsense. Sure, she liked Miku Hatsune enough to look like her, but she wasn’t a pushover. Darius got a firm reminder in the form of a beer can earlier. Lesson: even if someone looks like a Vocaloid, that doesn’t mean that they’re automatically okay with any singing. Wait, maybe she just fully understood drunk Darius’ logic here. Miku equals singing equals let’s harass her with music. Made sense, if you looked at it with the assistance of substances.

For a moment, Junko noticed that he made a “hm” noise. As if in thought. Maybe he thought that Wayne was… you know. She was still sure that they were in the off-stage right now. She was pretty damn sure, the more she thought of it. To be honest, it’d explain why they hadn’t come back yet, though. Aside from, you know, Darius’ antics. But the thought slipped out of focus.

“Yeah. I think she’s the kind of person to, like, kick Darius into outer space or some shit if he tried that again” she said, laughing.

Wait, did anything else happen? Well, Michael and Jonathan were starting to make-up, it looked like. Maria got pissed at her because somehow she wasn’t invited. She still needed to figure out how that happened, honestly. Johnny had pulled out some secret agent abilities to hide weed. What else happened?

“It’s been pretty quiet otherwise. Most of the craziness happened because Darius. Though… apparently I didn’t invite Maria? She magically showed up all pissed. I need to figure out if I forgot or what later.”

She wasn’t sure if she should bring up Jonathan and Michael. It was kind of their personal argument, you know? Did Cris even know about that to begin with? She knew about it, but it wasn’t sure if it was something he knew or should know.

You Could Have A Dream About Losing Your Friends
Amanda told Jaime to calm down. Was that a good idea? Emma knew one thing about people: they didn’t like to be told to calm down. Usually that made them more angry and defensive. Jaime probably wasn’t the type who’d relax after someone telling her to do so, either. But Jaime’s voice did have a more normal tone. Not significantly, but still.

Emma looked towards Amanda, and nodded in agreement. Jaime had said that the gun had made her uncomfortable, so it was probably a good idea to put it down for the time being. It hit her, though. It was something she didn’t realize at first, but seeing the gun in her hands made her realize it. Amanda had pulled the gun on her. Sure, she was scared, and Jaime could have been someone dangerous. But it still happened.

How many times would she have to point it at someone? Would there be a time where she’d fire? Hurt someone? Kill?

Emma tried to push that thought aside, but it stuck for a bit longer than she would have liked.

She began the process of pulling herself back up into the chair again. Her muscles still ached with each movement. But her feet touched the ground once more, and, with a groan, she plopped onto the seat. She leaned forward, her face towards the ground. She massaged the space between her right thumb and forefinger with her left hand. But a few seconds later, she looked up.

All three girls seemed scared or upset in their own way. She couldn’t blame them. But she had to bring it up.

“Hey, guys,” she said. “It… might be a good idea to figure out what we’re going to do for the next few days.”

There were a lot of things that still needed to be accounted for. Food and water were obvious. A good place to stay was another. While it seemed okay for the basics, it was dark and dreary in here. Probably not good psychologically in the grand scheme of things. And… then there were the more dangerous people. Emma hoped, with all her heart, that not many people at Cochise would be the type. She would be so happy if there were only a few deaths at most, and if they could leave without killing. Of course, there were safe people, too. Sabrina and her cousins, hopefully they were alright and not in any danger. Sabrina had been on the trip, so that was one person to look out for. She wasn’t sure how many of her cousins had gone. But there was a good chance that any one of them could be stuck here. For a moment, her imagination gave her the mental image of her cousins, betrayed and murdered. It wasn’t just her family, either. She had friends, too. Friends that, if something happened to them, would devastate her.

She spoke up again.

“Did any of you see anyone else? Um… before we met up, I mean.”

Emma remembered that Amanda said she didn’t a second after she finished talking. But Lucilly and Jaime could still have answers. Maybe they’d give her an idea of what it was like out there, if they knew about anything.

It Belongs in a Museum
Oh. Well that’s awkward. He couldn’t do much to control it, could he? If it’s a medical thing, then… maybe. But Jennifer didn’t know the illness well enough to say how. She couldn’t help but suddenly think of her own issues with caffeine. She’d been trying to quit it for a long time, only to find herself holding a mug a week later. Whenever she brought it up, everyone jumped in to give advice. It was sometimes asinine advice, too. Decaffeinated beverages were a good idea, but then some people pitched in with all kinds of fad diets that would supposedly help. No, she didn’t want to try to latest detox diet trend. Did she look like she wanted to? No.

Anyways, it’d be somewhat like that, if she said anything that was supposed to be “advice”. Bart didn’t name the medical condition, anyways, so it’s not like she was an expert. So advice was right out. Too insensitive. Jennifer, to be honest, didn’t think of herself as being good at talking about personal matters. Small talk? Sure. Critiquing each other’s’ work? Of course. Personal things? Well, that’s when she’s at a loss. It wasn’t like she was that terrible at social skills, just... she had no idea what to say to improve things. Bart had sounded disappointed, too. What can she say, then?

Asuka, however, had spoken up. It was that easy. Just say that it sucks. Maybe it was too simple, or maybe he didn’t want to be pitied for it. But at least it was something.

“Same. I… had no idea about it until now”, Jennifer said.

She wasn’t sure if that’s what he wanted to hear.

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I think the main problem with the current image is that it's V4-related. It's V6 now, and it might be good to find one that's more current.

96+ Quite Bitter Beings
((swing approved, just in case))

Darius dropped the bottle, and pulled out something. Something sharp. Even in her rage, Junko noticed how it shined in his hands. He was armed this entire time, too? That fucker. He wasted her things for a stupid reason, and now she, she was the asshole? No, no no no.

Junko didn’t listen. Somewhere she heard ‘go away’, but it didn’t stick. Everything just seemed to blend together. She was aware of the thing in his hands, and what he could do with it.

Junko wasn’t thinking. The only thoughts that came up at all was that, damn it, that was her water, and he had something sharp in his hands.

She growled.

She continued to stomp forward.

And she swung towards his knees.