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First Page - Planning
Gabby's opinion of Naomi took a turn.

Her brief, but notable, mention that looking for anyone in particular wasn't an option was in stark contrast to her own intentions. She most certainly intended to find Cho at some point, even if she hadn’t realised it until just then. It wouldn’t have hurt to find a few other people she could trust, and who’d be at a loss without her, either. Maybe it wasn’t the priority at that exact moment, but following Naomi was still looking less and less like something she’d want to be a part of.

However, her following topic of Miles brought her hypocrisy to plain view. Given that Miles Strickland was Gabby's next door neighbour, and thus she was aware of his and Naomi’s status as cousins, it only took her a moment to realise which Miles she was referring to.

Suddenly, her insistence of not looking for anyone in particular had lost all weight. Naomi was worried about her family, and that was understandable. Gabby was also worried about people who were close to her as family, so she could at least relate, perhaps even sympathise. Whilst she didn’t even consider what it would be like to have someone in her close family on the island with her, she was still concerned for her pseudo-family, and growing more so by the moment.

Regardless, she could only shake her head at Naomi’s question, regardless of whether she would have liked to have been able to help or not. If she met Miles, then she’d probably tell him that Naomi was looking for him. However, if Naomi was going to look for her specific person, then she was going to look for hers.

By then it was more or less certain that she was not teaming up with these people.

Shit Happens
Alex didn’t back down straight away. Her knife was still aimed readily at Cassandra’s face, her heart freezing in her chest as she watched Cassandra, waited for her to change her tone, made a lunge for her or some other crazy shit. She still wasn’t prepared to stab her in the face, however, and she could only keep acting like she was forever.

“Fine.” she muttered eventually, dropping the knife down the floor. Her fingers still hovered above it, however, ready to wrap themselves around it again the moment Cassandra changed her tune. This shit was alien enough to both of them, and she didn’t need to start trying to do what she’d never been able to and guess whether or not someone was acting like her BFF only to turn around and push her in the mud back in third grade.

Her other hand fumbled inside her bag whilst she still kept an eye on Cassandra. Eventually she was drinking from one of the bottles of water, still not stabbed in the back by her unwanted guest, and a moment of silence lingered as her throat recovered.

“So, talk.” She finally said, tone as hostile as ever. Fuck if she was interested in what Cassandra might have wanted to say, but that awkward moment was more than she wanted to deal with, and playing the guessing game of whether or not someone was going to murder her soon was not a habit she wanted to keep up. Whilst she might have just told her to fuck off on the best of circumstances, she was still tired as hell. A girl only had so much energy for arguing, after all.

First Page - Planning
Gabby could’ve retched when Travis showed up, if she was capable of such over the top reactions.

She was familiar with Travis through Joe, though only on an impersonal level. She’d heard enough about him from both her friend and from around the school to judge exactly what sort of person he was; she didn’t care for people with a layer of skeeze so thick that it would take a scouring pad to clean it off. Constantly reeking of weed (or what she assumed weed reeked like, having never been near it herself) and apparently always being on the road to trouble meant that Gabby would have, under normal circumstances, steered clear of him as much as possible.

She had no intention of leaving, however, and settled instead for turning her back on him and focusing her attention back on Naomi, who was seemingly as uneasy with his presence as she was. Had Naomi been the sort of person that Gabby could agree with, it would’ve been a breath of fresh air in the otherwise tense moment. As it was, however, their mutual dislike of Travis did nothing whatsoever to improve Naomi’s appeal.

Naomi’s paranoia about weapons rubbed her the wrong way too. Maybe it was smart to be cautious at the moment, but it was also unnecessary: if people wanted to kil– if people had dangerous weapons, then they’d have charged in with them. If they didn't, then they weren't a problem. Maybe she was trying to find problems with Naomi's logic because she didn't actually like her, it turned out, but she wasn't wrong. Her opinion on Naomi's methods made itself clear in her face, as her eyes rolled at her insistence.

As much as she didn’t want to be alone in this trying time, Naomi was starting to try her patience. She’d been right when she’d considered her too austere for her tastes, and the current exchange was doing little to remedy it. It could well have simply been because Naomi was in charge and she wasn't, but that wasn't the point: what mattered is that she was being rubbed the wrong way by Naomi's attitude, and she didn't care for people who rubbed her the wrong way on the best days.

But she still didn’t want to be alone.

Sleep, My Dear
Start

Events had been going on for barely any time at all, and already Dave Russell had cracked.

Maybe he was just too sensitive for it all, or maybe he was just too weak willed, but the sight of his teacher’s head exploding, followed by one girl suffocating another, were not things that he could cope with. Learning that he was going to die unless he killed everyone else was also not something that he could cope with. The terrorists' plot was not something that he could cope with.

His drug induced sleep had been riddled with nightmares, and even on wakening they still played in his head. A class full of corpses, an island littered with bodies, and all of them people he knew. All of them were going to die, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

When he was younger, his parents had watched the Survival of the Fittest coverage on the news. Dave was watching from the doorway at the time, and it had thoroughly freaked him out. Had he been a senior at the time, he would’ve avoided the school trip all together. The four year lull, alas, had put him in a false, but not unreasonable, sense of security. As a result, he had to endure watching people die.

So it was, as he staggered about Captain's Cliffs, that he played the images of death over and over in his mind. His face had little more than a stunned look on it. His cheeks were stained red with tears, and his pants were soiled with his own urine. He had gone white as a ghost, and every movement was laboured. To a casual observer, he could’ve been mistaken for a zombie.

He felt the cool sea air on his face, but he didn’t register it. What he did register was stories of suicidal people jumping off cliffs. One of the few times he’d gotten out of Seattle in his life, he’d ended up on top of a cliff. It was so far down, that he knew for sure that he’d die if he fell. That had made him keep both his hands firmly on the barrier.

But on this cliff, there were no barriers. If he fell down, that would be the end of everything.

If he stayed up, everything would continue: the visions of death; his friends killing each other; him having to kill his friends, and eventually, his own demise.

As he staggered further forward, he briefly registered Virgil struggling desperately to save Michelle from a similar fate. “Hi guys.” He said, as if he’d just passed them in the school hallway. It would’ve been nice if he could’ve seen them there again, maybe at graduation.

“Bye guys.” He said, as his foot stepped off the cliff and his whole body followed suit.

As the air rushed past him, clarity returned to him for the brief moment until he crashed straight into the rocks below.

He didn’t regret it.


B017: David “Dave” Russell – Deceased
151 Students Remaining

Shit Happens
She had come over: exactly what Alex was afraid would happen. Even whilst acting like she wouldn’t hurt her, Alex knew not to trust Cassandra. Even if she wanted to make herself comfortable on her bags, making conversation with her like the world wasn’t about the chew them up and spit them out, then take a big shit on them, Alex wasn’t buying.

A cold metal blade was pressed against her leg. Perhaps the pockets of her jeans weren’t the best place to keep her knife, the one that the terrorists had shoved in her bag, but fuck it, it was coming in handy now. With one quick motion, she had pulled it out and was brandishing it straight in Cassandra’s direction.

“Don’t get friendly with me.” She said, her words enunciated with as much volume as she could muster through her raspy throat. Her eyes locked on to Cassandra’s as she did so, and she deliberately clenched her throat to make sure that she didn’t cough again.

Was she prepared to use it on Cassandra? Fuck no; she wasn’t about to stab someone in the face just for coming up and talking to her. Yeah, the terrorists were pretty insistent that that was exactly what she was meant to be doing, but fuck them. Fuck them so hard that they split in two. It’d be a cold day in hell before she’d stab someone just because they were in her face, tempting as it may be.

Never the less, the knife still made a good deterrent. That was unless Cassandra thought she was really lucky or was really stupid, but it was still the best she had. Besides, Cassandra wasn’t a complete fucking retard from what she remembered, so that turned the odds in her favour.

Talking odds was stupid though. After all, the odds were never in her favour, and when they came up against her, shit happened.

Shit Happens
Cassandra’s voice broke Alex out of her stupor like the shattering of the glass that littered the terminal building’s floor.

Her resigned melancholy warped into panic, terror, all the horrible emotions that sent her beating heart into frenzy. Her head whipped up, her body following suit as her hands crawled up the wall behind her, and her eyes that stretched into her skull bore into Cassandra from across the room.

“St-Stay back!” she yelled, anger already boiling up into her voice. Her throat burned as she shouted, however, and she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a hacking cough. “Fuck, fuck...” she muttered as she rubbed it with one palm as the other kept clinging to the wall behind her. Despite her best hopes another cough came out, followed by another, and before she knew it she was in a hacking fit.

“Just – stay back!” she called out again, the words distorted by the coughs that covered them, as she tried desperately to control herself.

This was too soon. Cassandra’s presence did little to help her feel less like hell, only making Alex realise that she’d been hoping never to have to face another human being again in her entire life from that moment onwards. Alone was better.

She’d seen the video the terrorists had shown everyone, of course, and those two were best friends. Even if Alex actually had any friends, she wouldn’t have trusted them anymore. Had she been in a better state of mind, she might have felt that her crappy social life, which meant that there were no friends to trust in the first place, suddenly had a silver lining. However, at that moment, her mind was resting solely on the potentially lethal Cassandra Black.

Her coughing died down, but she kept her hand gripped around her throat. There was water in the bag they’d given her, she’d already seen that, but there wasn’t time for that now. Cassandra might as well have been the fucking grim reaper, as far as Alex was concerned, and she wasn’t letting her get anywhere near her with her middle finger of death.

First Page - Planning
She hadn’t expected such a hostile reaction. Maybe that was foolish of her, given the circumstances, but she gave that no thought. Rather, she chose to script her response. Watching the two with a steely, but askew, glance for the quiet moment it took her to organise her words, she decided how to react to their demand that she surrender any means or motive.

“Fine.” She finally settled on, choosing compromise over a needless argument that she had no reason to fight. Her tone was flat, almost robotic, as she answered with carefully controlled words. “They gave me a ball and chain, but I left it behind. I couldn’t do anything with it, anyway.” She exhaled, keeping her throat tight as she did so in order to keep it subtle. Her shoulders were tense, but she tried to slack them. She knew that she must have looked as on edge as she felt, and it wasn’t a look she liked the idea of.

“And I’m not going to hurt you.” She answered. There was a brief rise in volume at the start, as if she was irritated with the implication rather than just trying to sound more natural, but it had trailed off long before the end of the short sentence. Her body remained as tense as before whilst she looked down at the two.

She could feel the hostility in the air, her presence unwanted or at least unwelcome as far as Naomi went. Cammy was just following Naomi so far, and from what she’d heard before she walked in she’d keep doing that all the conversation. In other words, the leader here did not want her there.

That was fair, and maybe she didn’t want to be there either. She didn’t want to be anywhere near them at that point, in fact, but that wouldn’t have worked out. So far, with everything that had happened, staying near people was the only thing she had thought to do. Under better circumstances, though, she would have been leading rather than following. Serving the questions, rather than returning the answers.

Then again, it was easy to switch by just asking a question of her own. She wanted to know the answer, anyway.

“You’re planning something, Naomi?”

Shit Happens
Start

Surprisingly, Alex was calm.

Now comparatively, calm for Alex would be screaming their bloody head off for a normal person, but in the grand scheme of things, a very long scream, followed by pounding the walls and crying into the ground for practically half an hour was fairly good as far as Alex on a bad day went. If nothing else, she hadn’t taken it out on other people, and by now she’d actually calmed down.

Yes, on the inside she was tearing into anything and everything, her head felt like it could explode at any moment, and she really really wanted a smoke, but if nothing else, she was keeping it all on the inside. The fact that she had screamed her throat hoarse earlier may have been a factor, however.

Eventually she’d come to a slump against the wall of the terminal, the building she’d awoken in. The summer sun was high in the sky, shining clearly through the glass walls, and the weather was admittedly pleasant. She didn’t give a shit, of course, but it was still a nice day. Her fingers were already forming an imaginary cigarette as the worst migraine of her life pulsed in her head. She was so drained of energy, even after the long periods of anesthetic that she could’ve stared into the sun without even flinching if she’d sat at the right angle.

Coming on the school trip had been a bad idea. Why she’d done it, she had no idea, maybe a last ditch effort to actually make her high school career not a total failure in the land of making friends. Maybe one of her pot buddies had invited her, she couldn’t really remember, but if they had then they were a total fucking cunt, and she hoped that a chance to let them know it would cross her path soon enough. Maybe she’d just been really high herself when she bought the ticket, again, she couldn’t really remember. It was a definite possibility, and if it was true it meant that weed really did kill. Whoopee.

Her breathing was laboured, the hot air burning her throat as it came in and out. She was almost afraid that she might pass out soon, despite having no experience of doing so in her life.

Survival of the Fittest. Yeah, she knew what it was (What fucking American didn’t?), and yeah, she’d looked into it when she was younger. No, she wasn’t one of those fucked up freaks who enjoyed it or obsessed over it, in fact she’d dedicated a good portion of her time to trolling forums that went on about it. She remembered this one time that she’d found a forum where some freaks had even roleplayed their own versions of it, like a bunch of dead high schoolers was fucking hilarious. It was one of the few times she’d actually tried to out and out hack a forum into deletion, but she wasn’t nearly good enough to make that happen, especially back then. Either way, the whole thing was fucked up, and now she was right in the fucking centre of it all.

Going by what had happened in the past? Her chances were zero to nil.

She let out a long sigh, too tired to cry. Sometimes, shit happened. In her case, more often than not.

First Page - Planning
Start

Gabriella Parker, who had been listening from the entrance, decided at that point to make her move.

She’d arrived by chance, not long after Cammy herself had arrived. If she’d been a few seconds earlier, she would’ve even seen Cammy round into the garden, but she still arrived soon enough to hear most of the conversation. What had convinced her to eavesdrop, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t something that she usually did.

She had already come to terms with the fact that she had been kidnapped and put in Survival of the Fittest, even though it was all supposed to be over and done with. She hadn’t accepted it, nor did she have any plans to, but she wasn’t denying it. Davidge’s murder wouldn’t have been some sick joke, and the video of the girl’s smothering each other wasn’t fake, not to mention it was too elaborate-

She hadn’t come to terms with it immediately.

Eventually, as her breathing had evened and her stomach settled, she’d picked herself up. Her heart was still racing at the time, and it still was, but she’d gathered herself. A part of her hadn’t wanted to; instead she’d wanted to just stay down on the ground and perhaps even cry. That wasn’t her though. Even when things got their worse, she’d never been one to cry. It wasn’t in her nature, and she didn’t want to start now. Even as bad as things were, as bad as they could very well become, she wasn't going to start.

So she’d gotten back up off her feet, dusted herself down, and set off. She’d left the meteor hammer she’d been given behind: it was too heavy for her, and what would she do with it anyway? She wouldn’t know how to use it even if she wanted to, and all she could think to do with it was maybe strangle someo –

She’d left it behind.

So it was that she chanced upon Naomi and Cammy, and so it was that for whatever reason she hadn’t stepped in straight away. She knew Naomi: she was smart, ambitious, a good mix. Too austere for Gabby’s tastes, but she was still alright. Cammy wasn’t even an acquantince, but from the brief things she’d gathered from her talking to Naomi, she was probably fine too. She wasn’t sure what she was worried about, or rather, she didn’t want to be sure.

So it was that she finally stepped forward, into plain view. She had no plans for what to say, and her mind remained blank as she faced the girls. All she could utter was a quiet, but steady, “Hey.”

V5 begins now
Goddamnit this literally started five hours too early; I'm gonna be all excited and distracted during my last exam now.

Ah screw it, V5!

Mitadake High/Pryce High
What's sad is that I didn't even mean to say oh poo in response to dying. It was just my habitual reaction to alt tabbing back in to a chick stabbing me.

TT Reads V5 Pregame
Now that there's a little queue ahead of me I'm going to go and request the other pregame of mine I'd quite like feedback on. A Session in the Bedroom is Gabriella Parker's only thread (at this exact moment), so hearing how she plays off in it would be groovy.

TT Reads V5 Pregame
Here's a starter for you. There's a thread before that with Alex, but honestly I consider it kind of a thread fart compared to that one. I don't know, link's on that thread if you want to have a looky loo at both, I'll love feedback either way.

MurderWeasel's Brutally Hardcore Realism Litmus Test
With the additions:

Gabby - 31 (Bonus points for family feud and amazing singing voice)
Alex - 33 (Fatherly feud and significant acne scarring)
Dave - 11 (Bonus points for his only real flaw being he's overly compassionate)

Mitadake High/Pryce High
I'm always up for murder hijinks.

MurderWeasel's Brutally Hardcore Realism Litmus Test
Gabby - 24
Alex - 28
Dave - 6

Eeer, ooh, not sure if that's hideously awful or not without a scale. (Plus I'm probably being generous).

Oh well.

Alternative D&D 3.5e Campaign Interest Check
Ciel has dropped out (and apologises for holding everyone up needlessly), so we'll be going with Jace after all.

Now we just need to get the forum set up (and if people haven't thought out their characters backstories completely yet, now would be a great time to (well actually, the past week of nothing would've been a great time to, but what can you do)) and we'll be pretty much ready to finally roll.

Heart to Heart
((Alex King continued from Kick Balls))

She was sitting hunched over, keeping her head lower than usual. She was holding an imaginary cigarette in her hand, reaching up to scratch her mouth and take a make believe puff every few seconds. Her leg wouldn’t stop shaking, her foot tapping against the floor as her knee jerked around. Every few seconds, she took another look around to make sure no-one had seen her, as she waited for the door in front of her to finally open.

She never knocked, not even the first time she’d came here. She wasn’t the only girl at school who got counselling, and someone else could’ve easily been in the room before her. She’d never actually noticed anyone come out when the door finally opened before, but that was because she’d always turned up five minutes late to her own appointment. That way, if there had been someone in the room already, they’d be long gone by the time she got there. Her counsellor had become accustomed to it.

Make believe cigarettes did little to calm her nerves, but she wasn’t one of those retards who tried smoking in the bathrooms, or out back behind the school. There were smoke alarms everywhere, and watchful teachers everywhere else. She could get away with it once, maybe twice, but screw anything more than that: she would just be pushing her luck, and she had shit for luck in the first place. So, instead, the day between the first puff in the morning and the first puff of the afternoon was compensated by finger gestures. Still, she was only on half a pack a day, so she could’ve been doing much worse.

Finally, the door opened to a familiar, welcoming face. It was one of the few faces that Alex could look forward to seeing anymore, except perhaps her Mom on a day when she wasn’t feeling so pissed off.

Snuffing out the imaginary cigarette on the seat between between her legs, she followed her counsellor inside, throwing her bag on to the sofa. When she sat down, her leg began shaking again immediately. Slower than before, but it was still shaking. Her counsellor waited patiently.

Alex always spoke first, save for the polite “How are you today?” that her counsellor always gave. Alex was always curt with her response, but rarely blunt. It was either “Fine.” Or “Not great.”, but she never went into an elaboration why by herself. There was always the pause whilst Alex organised her thoughts and lowered her barriers. Pushing Alex never worked out well, but it was something they were trying to work on. Progress so far had been slow.

“So, the other day, right?” Alex finally began, after a minute of awkward silence filled only by the sound of Alex fidgeting, “I’m walking through the park, cause of what you said about having to get out when I’m feeling shitty.” Swear words were fine, as long as Alex knew when to use them. That was something they were working on too, but progress had been slower than the pushing element. “And like, there I am, listening to some music, minding my own business, and these two assholes kick a fucking ball right into my head!” Her counsellor cut her off with a gently raised hand. It wasn’t to stop Alex from going on, but to remind her that was she was already losing her temper. Alex had reluctantly agreed to count to five every time she saw the hand go up, and did so.

“Sorry. So yeah, they just kicked it straight at my head, and they didn’t’ give a shit. They were just like. ‘Oh, sorry. My bad.’ Like it was no big fucking deal! I mean, you kick a ball at someone, and you could at least say sorry like you mean it, right?”

“And how did you react?” her counsellor asked her.

“Well how do you think I reacted? I got fucking pissed! I mean they kicked a ball right at me, I could’ve gone deaf from my ear buds going right fucking down my ear, you know? So excuse fucking me if I get a little bit annoyed.” It wasn’t the same anger as before: this time Alex was controlling her volume. That, as far as her counsellor was concerned, was a good first step to managing her moods.

“Well, that’s perfectly reasonable. I’d get upset if someone hit me with a ball and acted like it didn’t matter.” She’d told Alex before that she was allowed to get angry, and Alex had no problem obliging it, but they were still working on her getting her anger out in a healthy way. They’d probably made the least progress on that out of everything, though.

“So then I kicked their ball away, and they just laughed at that. Yeah, I’m smarter than them by like, a mile, and can program anything I want, but I can’t kick a ball. That’s so important, isn’t it? World always needs new scientists and technology to get somewhere, but we really need athletes before that, because fucking sports man. Hell, look at everyone going to school on sports scholarships, whilst I spent my time working my ass off and didn’t get any scholarships.” She was getting off topic, but that was normal. When Alex started ranting, it was usually only worth stopping her if she was getting angry. There’d be time to talk about controlling her anger when she was done.

“So yeah, that pretty much fucked up my day. I was just pissed off after that.” Alex finished, turning to look out of the window as she held an imaginary cigarette again. Her counsellor waited a moment to be sure she was done.

“Okay. Now, like I said, it’s perfectly reasonable to get angry over something like that. What I’m concerned about, is that you stayed angry. You sound like you’re still angry, too.” Alex shrugged at this, still staring out the window. “Alex, look at me.” She did. “You have to calm down after something like this happens. I know you’ve got a lot of anger, but we’ve talked about how you really need to let it go after a while. You can’t stay mad over something that’s over and done with. “

Alex let out a sigh, and her leg stopped shaking. Then her face screwed up, and it started shaking again. “Well, you know, I’m just not good at it, okay? I know that it’s not healthy, I know all about the fucking problems it causes, like people hating me, and my health and all that cardiovascular shit, and how it’s going to kill me eventually! Hell, if I don’t give up smoking, that’s going kill me eventually!” she was flailing her arms at this point, laughing sardonically at her ‘what ifs’ “But you know what? I’m just not very good at calming down. I’m just –“ at that point, her counsellor raised her hand again. Alex counted to five, on cue, and stopped. There was another moment’s pause to make sure she had stopped.

“Alex, you just calmed down.” Her counsellor stated, with a sly smile.

Alex stopped, blinking. Then, she smiled a tiny defeated smile. "...Yeah, nice one."

There was a moment of calm amidst the storm, before Alex looked back out the window. “I just don’t see any point in not getting angry, you know? I mean, no-one at school likes me. I just get pissed off by stupid people, and I’m really good at getting angry, I guess. So what if I do? It’s not like people are going to like me if I don’t, and everyone I do hang out with I don’t like anyway. Probably don’t like me either, but screw it, I haven’t seen them lately anyway.”

Her counsellor nodded. It was a far cry from the rage she’d been letting out a few minutes ago, but such a change in mood was starting to become pretty common in their sessions.

“You know that If you get angry at them, people aren’t going to want to get close to you.” Her counsellor posed.

“Yeah, I know. I know. It doesn’t matter, really? I mean, it’s not like anyone would like me anyway.” Alex rebutted.

“Well, why do you think that? Didn’t Richy like you?” Her counsellor returned.

“Yeah, but that was ages ago. Now I’m just an asshole, and there isn’t anything I can do about it.” Alex deflected.

“Alex, you’re being defeatist again. We’ve talked about this, you musn’t give up on yourself.” Her counsellor persisted.

“Yeah, I know…” Alex replied. Her tone went quiet, and they stopped.


Her head was firmly in her hand now, eyes glazed over. This was the most risky element of the sessions: if Alex withdrew, getting her to come out again was almost impossible.

“Look, can I just go, please?” Alex finally said, looking up from her hands with eyes lost of their fire. It was the dreaded reaction.

“Alex, the session isn't over. You can’t keep walking out on me like this, otherwise I can’t help you.”

“Yeah, I know, but I just really want to go now.” She had already grabbed her bag and stood up, much to her counsellor’s worry.

“Alex, you really shouldn’t go, otherwise we can’t do anything.”

“Yeah, but I just really can’t be here right now. I’m gonna go. Thanks for the session.”

“Alex!” her counsellor called after her, but she was already out the door.


It was the last session before the school trip.

((Alex King's pregame conclusion.))

Yearbook Scrawlings (Do you want some?)
Are we taking suggestions for the scrawlings? Cause if we are I think that a 'cutest couple' entry would fit in well.

Introduction Thread
Lo Zevon~

You have arrived in the nick of time and are still eligible to submit a profile.

Not a mod but there's only a small submission window left so just getting info across.

Oh yes and these make for good guidance, especially this one.