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Away
I came back! I wanted to stay in Berlin for the rest of the year, but the Swedes found me and dragged me back home.

Away
Hey guys, I'm leaving the country Sunday morning and I won't be back until next Saturday at night. I don't think I'll have time to get to the internet so for next week I've left my characters in the capable hands of Holly, Ciel and Dom.


Day of the Dove
“Hi Helen,” she responded with a bit of a wave. “It’s no problem. I don’t know most people’s name’s either.”

Isabel tried her hand at a smile. She wasn’t used to trying to be inviting, but she gave it her best shot. Helen had a very relatable story, especially the part about running from crazies. Isabel had yet to start running down her iPod battery since she’d found company to fill in the silence.

Of course, Charlie decided to put her on the spot and decided that she was the entertainment. Isabel looked at her through narrowed eyes. It seemed Dave was of the same mind.

Isabel awkwardly picked up Partario. She put the mouth piece to her lips, took a breath and blew while pushing down a plunger. Isabel managed to warble out a few notes that sounded almost like “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”

Suddenly she took a sharp intake of breath, turned the trumpet to Charlie and blew the hardest, loudest note she possibly could.

Isabel put down the instrument and tried to keep a straight face.

“I guess I’m rusty.”

The Man-slut, the Cocktease and the Lover
Duncan sputtered something about having to leave. Probably to find that girl he kept talking about. He didn’t think there was ANOTHER Maria beside the dead one and the one he was looking for, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

Feo seemed to be followed Liz. Her logic was actually pretty sound and he didn’t have any other pressing things to do so he picked up the both of their bags along with his stick and followed.

All seemed to be going well until, predictably, Liz’s great plan fell apart and in a moment of blinding idiocy she seemed to want to destroy the thing.

In a bid at self preservation he stopped her, but decided when the reached the surface that he wasn’t going to be hanging out long with someone suicidal.

“See ya,” he called out behind him once the emerged from the caves.

((Ethan Kent continued in What Are Little Girls Made Of?))

Twists and turns
Nick picked himself up off the floor and brushed the dust from the front of his shirt. It seemed they had more company and more female company at that.

Teo lit up the dark with his smooth smile and started talking to her.

Well he seems to have cheered up real fast.

Nick made sure he still had a hold on his weapon and then looked closer at the girl. Despite his aim to know the entire senior class, he couldn’t quite remember her name. He recognized her by look, but he couldn’t place her in any sports or clubs.

“Wainright,” he said after his mind finally retrieved the file on her.

The offer to snuggle drifted by him mostly unnoticed as her words were drowned out by the momentary revival of his excitable nature brought about by the thing she was holding.

“Oh neat!”

He leaned in close to look at the gun. His eyes scanned as best they could, trying to pick up details.

“It’s a Mosin-Nagant bolt action rifle! It’s Russian, they’ve been using them since like, the start of the 20th century. I wonder how old this one is. Looks newish. The 7.62x54 cartridges were originally designed for the Mosin and in fact, it’s the oldest cartridge still in regular combat use. They’re great for accuracy. They use ‘em a lot as sniper rifles and outside of the military for hunting, it’s not that heavy and the recoil isn’t too bad. The only problem is that since it’s a bolt action it takes a little while to fire sometimes,” he spouted off.

“Lucky,” he sighed.

He was called back to Earth by Teo’s suggestion of sleep. He nodded.

“Yeah. S’late. Guess we better hit the hay for a little while.”

((Nick LeMonde continued in The Various Downsides of Being "Paranoid as Balls" ))

Day of the Dove
Isabel was pretty tired from the long hike, but when she finally took inventory on the group, they weren’t doing so badly.

It was already the third day and among them, none of them were killers, none of them were crazy, they’d all had decent rest, though the food hadn’t been great they had eaten enough and discounting Dave’s damaged knees and Charlie’s nose, they were largely uninjured. On top of all that, they seemed to get along reasonably well, which was a boon in and of it’s self.

She rolled over unto her stomach and watched Dave pull out the butcher knife. She supposed that at least counted as something the average person would be afraid of. Charlie was the least fortuitous of all, pulling out a small mirror.

“A mirror?”

Without so much as picking up her head she unzipped her bag, felt around and took out the large jagged mirror shard she had taken from the maze.

“Yeah. I’ve got one of those too,” she said lightly.

She dropped the thing back into the bag. A small voice floated down from over head and she rolled over to look. Cute girl, scared girl. She wanted to join. The more people that were added to the group, the more nervous Isabel became. Anytime she was in a group she became quieter the larger the group. She and Dave were fine. She supposed she, Dave and Charlie was fine as well. This new addition set her on edge a little, but in all honesty she felt bad turning someone like that away.

“Normally I consider myself to be sort of mean and snippy but compared to these two I’m practically the welcome wagon. So..uh…welcome.”

It struck her as singularly odd that Dave referred to her as “Izzy.” No one called her that. It wasn’t that she minded, it was just….well, no one called her that. She chalked it up to Dave being too lazy to say the whole thing.

Lord knows that extra syllable might kill him.
Still, as it was almost a term of endearment, she was fine with being called that.

“Well, go on and have a seat.”

She sat up and tried to take a survey of where they were. Looked like a golf course. In the announcement they had said the mansion was off limits. She supposed that was the thing in the distance as marked on the map. Several yards away the green dipped a little. A sand trap?

“So what’s your name and how have you spent the past three days?”

The Man-slut, the Cocktease and the Lover
((It's been a pleasure having you, Shake!))

Ethan watched the proceedings coolly. None of the new comers looked like they were ready to tussle, so as long as they didn’t attack him, what they did wasn’t a huge concern of his. He felt some small twinge of pity for the small Asian girl as she shot out from next to Liz and ran behind Duncan. That pity was mixed in with a good dose of disdain for acting like a scared child. He smiled when Feo grabbed the oar.

Sorry, girl. Feo just wanted it more than you.

“Frankie, ray of sunshine. We had some asshole with TNT run into us is what happened. I have to say, it looks a lot funnier on Looney Tunes then it did back there.”

Liz backed up and began writing something on the walls. He took a step forward to read the message and adjusted his glasses.

Looking for relays, hu?

He stepped back to his former place near Feo and didn’t move an inch towards Liz.

Stupid. Wasn’t she in the advanced math class? Even if there aren’t any radio relays down here to signal the detonation of the collars, and lets face it, these guys seemed pretty thorough so the chances of that are slim, but even if there aren’t, that wouldn’t be much of a help. I know a thing or two about bombs, and essentially we’ve got fucking bombs strapped to our necks. They probably designed it so that tampering would set off an internal detonator, so even if they can choose a collar to set off and blow a kid up via radio signal, trying to mess with it would STILL blow you up. And even IF they were stupid enough to make these collars able to blow up only at the call of a signal, then what? Remove the in under here and then? You’d still be stuck on this island with a shit ton of people who have already gone off their rocker. We have no idea where we are, and there are no boats. Is this girl planning on lifting a swan boat from the fun fair and sailing home in that?

“Pass. You have fun, though.”

Behind him the meek girl has some sort of freak out and ran off. He shrugged. It wasn’t his job to look after her and he wasn’t convincing her to stay if she didn’t want to.

Ethan looked at the words on the wall again. It was a stupid plan and it wouldn’t work, but the fact that she was willing to try stirred up some form of…..whatever was the opposite of contempt. What was it? He was-

---------------------------------------------------------


“He’s thinking.”

“He’s nervous.”

“Shut up!”

The two girls giggled and watched the young boy scribble on the paper. He stuck his tongue out and hurriedly pushed his sliding glasses up with the edge of the pencil. Their father came by and hit the boy on the head with a rolled up magazine.

“Don’t talk to them that way,” he castigated. “And girls, stop trying to psyche him out. That’s not fair.”

“Everything’s fair when we play,” said the girl with long, dirty blonde hair. She grabbed his cheek in her thumb and fore finger and pulled affectionately. He swatted away her hand without looking up and grumbled a bit.

“Give him some space,” said the second girl, face resting in her arms. “Come on, baby brother. It takes Sam and me half this long when we’re the code makers.”

“I’m going, I’m going! You s-”

WHACK.

The girls giggled again. Ethan turned around the paper with letters that seemed to be gibberish and slid it towards them.

“THERE. Done. Ready, set, go!”

Day of the Dove
((Isabel Guerra continued from Time is Not on Our Side))

((Also, this post was a team effort. Teeaaam!))

Dave, Isabel and Charlie had gotten to know each other. The three sat on the greens, watching the sun set after walking since they had awoken shortly after sunrise.

During the first hour of their walk they had been quiet. Isabel was still shaken from the announcements, Dave was complaining about the misty morning and Charlie was fussing with her hair.

During the third hour they started talking a little more. Dave and Isabel told Charlie about their day trip to the fun fair and the magic mirror house, while Charlie told them about being bashed in the face with a hammer and narrowly avoiding getting her ass capped.

Into the fourth hour they began to argue about who had had the worst day. Sure Charlie had taken a hammer to the nose, but Dave and Isabel had endured poetry from the dark, tortured soul of a goth chick. In the end they reasoned the two just about evened out.

On the fifth hour they began to get bored with chatter.

“Why don’t we play a game?” asked Isabel.

“Game? Sure. Let’s play the license plate game,” Dave sourly replied.

"Don't think we're gonna see any cars," said Charlie, equally sourly. "How about instead, every time we see a tree, we punch a Latina."

“Ummm, could you not?” Isabel frowned and clutched her trumpet protectively.

"Right. Sorry. I didn't... sorry. We're cool, right?"

At the sixth hour they tried to play a game of “Never Have I Ever” eating a little piece of a bread slice for every thing that they had done. This would have been a bit more sporting if Dave and Isabel had ever bothered to do anything. Soon they had just made it a game of trying to get Charlie to run through her bread.

“Uhh, Shit, I got this one, hang on... Never have I ever joined the cheerleading squad," said Dave.

“Oh, fuck you guys.” Charlie took a vicious bite of her slice.

They stopped for two hours to rest. The girls filled up their bottles at a river in the forest and Dave found berries that looked safe for consumption. The three sat in the dirt and smashed the berries into their bread. It wasn’t much but it certainly improved the cheap, store brand white bread.

At the ninth hour they took off and continued on. Isabel and Dave tried to keep their heads down as they saw the back of the mirror maze off in the distance. Suddenly, Dave broke the silence.

“Isabel.”

“What?”

“Lay me a beat.”

“What?”

“Aw come on! Lay me a beat!”

“No.”

Dave turned to Charlie, strangely enthused after the hours of walking.

“Lay me a fat beat. Come on. Do it. Just fucking do it.”

“You’re joking right?”

Isabel sighed and brought the trumpet up to her mouth. She could see Charlie cringe out of the corner of her eye. She blew a note and repeated it at about the pace at which they were walking.

"Yo, sup, name's Dave. Listen up everybody, gonna be a fan fave."

"I watched a fucker get chainsawed, I'll admit"

"But keeping my chin up high, despite the grit"

"In my back, that's whack, I'm cut, and that's just smack”

"Imagine what I'm gonna do If I eventually crack."

Isabel couldn’t go on. Her notes splintered and she pulled the mouth piece away, dissolving into giggles. Charlie likewise seemed to be affected and was leaning against a tree with both hands covering her mouth as she laughed.

Despite having slept for an entire day the trio was starting to get tired again. Isabel hung back, thinking to herself while Dave and Charlie headed the front. He cautiously looked over his shoulder at Isabel.

“Looks like Hernadez back there is getting tired,” he whispered. “And here I thought she’d be used to being on her feet forever. All the jobs available to her require it. Waitress, nanny, gardener…uh…..gardener who watches kids while serving drinks….”


“Y'know, Dave, I'm actually really sad we didn't get to know each other back at school. I feel like we could've gotten to be pretty good friends, and then you'd probably start developing feelings for me that I'd never return or even notice." Charlie tossed a quick look back at the other girl as well now, then turned back to Dave. "And then Izzy would be off in the corner, stealing jobs from hard-working Americans."


Finally they reached what looked like a sports field. Charlie and Isabel ran forward out of the forest towards the grass and threw their things onto the field. Behind them Dave bitterly hobbled on his injured leg after them. The girls had sprawled out, lying down for the first time since their long sleep. Dave eventually plopped down next to them and the three basked in the orange glow of the sunset.

Isabel smiled warily at them. Charlie, in her surprise, smiled back.

For those few hours, they were on the camping trip they were promised.

Time Is Not On Our Side
The blood leaked from the girl’s eye socket and she screamed.

The triangle moved around the glowing Ouija board and she trusted.

The chainsaw revved and organs splattered at her feet.

The shadows stalked the darkness and she shivered.

Do you kids know what makes Uncle Danya happy?

The P.A. system roared to life, sending the birds scattering from the trees and waking up a girl asleep among the bushes. Groggily, she opened her eyes. She sniffed and wiped them, they were wet. Isabel rolled over and her hand hit another hand. She screamed, pulled her hand back and rolled the other direction into a bush.

I’m still on this island. I’m on this island and I’m listening to some psychopathic murderer imply that I am his niece.

She took a deep shaky breath and pulled out the sharpie from her skirt waist band. There was still a little room left on her left arm which she promptly filled in with the names. She sighed as she added two more tallies to Reiko’s name. This wasn’t like the time before. She knew two of the people who had died. Charlotte and Trevor, they had both been at the poker night at Alex’s house. They were gone now. However, those two were a minor shock compared to the news of a particular killer.

Eleventh to die was one Steve Barnes, who found out that Hayley Kelly losing her head meant him losing his

Her pen stopped moving. She swallowed and skipped the name, now finding she had no more room on her arms. Isabel lifted her shirt to the bottom of her ribs and started writing down the side of her torso. Names flowed and curved down the side of her body with the tally marks next to them. At the end of announcement she closed her eyes and flopped onto her back.

Hayley.

Her throat was closing up and strings of pain ran down from her neck to her heart. She uncapped the sharpie and unbuttoned the first three buttons of her shirt. She pulled down the shirt off of her left shoulder and wrote “H.K” near her collar bone with one mark, and then pulled the fabric back up. She tried to swallow the feeling back down; now wasn’t the time to lose composure. Her nails dug into her palm, trying to distract her with a new pain.

“D-Dave. Charlie,” she said, trying to keep her voice level.

“Sorry freaked a little, Dave. Not used to waking up next to another body. Startled me. W-We,” she swallowed again. Almost all the way under control again. “We better get moving.”

((Isabel Guerra continued in Day of the Dove ))

Twists and turns
((Sorry for the delay))

Nick only watched as Teo squeezed the life from Clio. Then just as quickly as he had started, he let her go, told her to run. She picked up her things and flew down the dark hallway, with only the pitter patter of her steps remaining when she was too far-gone into the shadows to be seen anymore.

Nick picked up the flashlight he had dropped during his altercation with Simon and shined it down after her. The light didn’t illuminate much, just a beam sucked into the black space. He shifted and shined the light at Teo as he explained his reasoning. The boy stood still, trying to figure out why Teo had done what he’d done. He didn’t believe his reason, but he couldn’t read him well enough to know what the real reason was.

“BS, Teo. You could have killed her. She’s already on the island’s most wanted for killing two people before us. No one would have said a thing if we said we killed her in self defense. She doesn’t even care. She killed the violin player and she doesn’t even care. You heard her. She was the one who killed Chris….” he said, remembering the other girl he had almost strangled in a rage. She had been telling the truth. “The goth girl was a sick thing to cut off his head, but Clio…..she was…proud. There’s no one on this island who would have blamed us for cutting her down.”

His fingers ran up and down the wooden handle of the hunga munga. The rough feeling of the wood blended in his mind with the memory of Clio. His fingers cut back and forth between the grainy, cold present and the smooth, warm, past. The straight lines jumped to curves, then back again.

Push her out. She’ll kill you the first chance she gets.

No more past. Just Teo and Nick standing in the dark. He moved the flashlight away from Teo and sat on a container.

“Teo,” he said, breaking the silence. “It’s not supposed to be easy. If it was, well…but it’ll get easier. Everything gets easier the more you do it. Even this.”

He took a deep breath. “But I guess you’ve got some point. Maybe it’s best if we don’t get famous for a little while. ”

All around the hallways were empty and dark, with only the thinnest bit of natural light seeping through occasionally. They looked to him like the type of place something frightening might hide. Were the scary things in the dark worried about other scary things in the dark? The thought had never occurred to him. Scary kids, scaring kids.

He leaned back to put his hand behind him, but overestimated how far back the container went, leaned into nothing and fell backwards over the other side.

Time Is Not On Our Side
Out of the forest walked a very tired looking girl. She yawned and regrettably this sent Isabel on another yawn as well.

“Kay, number one, being killed by a trumpet would be a cool way to die. Number….uh….”

Did I just forget how to count to TWO?

She let Dave fill in the gap where she had trailed off with his introduction.

“My name’s Isabel and I don’t have a fun expletive for a middle name,” she said flatly after him and gave a short wave.

Isabel readjusted her bag over her shoulder and trudged a few paces over to some bushes. She pushed them with her foot, then stuck her trumpet into the middle of the brush. It looked like there was a clearing in the middle that would allow them to lie down while keeping them at least partially hidden from view with bushes. She dropped her bag in the dirt and started trying to make it somewhat pillow shaped.

“I can hear you still,” she called out to Dave while fussing with the bag. She smiled a little at his joke. For the second time today she smiled and for the second time it was Dave that caused it. He might have been an ass, but at least he was a funny ass. Isabel pulled a jacket out of her bag and draped it over her upper body. If the other girl wanted to sleep near them, it didn’t make much of a difference to her. She didn’t appear dangerous and her name wasn’t one of the ones written on her arms so she figured they would find out more about her when they were all in a more hospitable mood.

Isabel threw her head down on the bag and her dark hair spilled over the mound and onto the forest floor. Somewhere next to her she heard Dave plop down in exhaustion.

“G’night Dave, Night Claire,” she mumbled.


The fear of the day was pulling at her not to sleep, but her body was giving up. Isabel shut her eyes and it felt like they had sealed as if they were made of metal. Before she realized it she was being dragged backwards into the deep black waters of unconsciousness…




"You and I are going to have some fun. Just a barrel of fucking fun. A ton..of..fucking..fun."

“Have you ever tried it?”

“No.”


“Don't do it, Bro. She’s an obnoxious bitch, but she don't have it in her to be a murderer.”

"Let go, you can't expect me to just sit here and watch! Fuck! What the fuck have you done?"



“¡Shhhh! ¡Cállate niña! ¿No sabes sobre El Viejo?”

“N-no. ¿Quien es El Viejo?”


"I'd hold still if I were you. Wouldn't want to cut your wrists now."

“You wanna try it?”

“I don’t think my mom would want me to…..Okay. You promise not to tell?”


“If we sit by and let them get away with their sins, we're letting everyone who's watching know that we think it's 'Okay' to look out for number one. It isn't okay. There isn't a number one, there isn't a winner in this.”


“El Viejo es un hombre muy viejo, pues obviamente, y tiene piel pálido, pálido y él vive muy muy lejos bajo la tierra. Allí, él esta comiendo su cena.

“¿Su cena? ¿Qué eso tiene que hacer conmigo?”


"So now what do we do with you? I missed a chance with Emma, but you, maybe you'll do. Or wait, you're a dyke aren't you? Never felt the pleasures of a man. What do you think? Do you want to know what its like?"


“I won’t say anything. Are you afraid?”

“A little….”

“Let’s make the room dark. Pull down the shades.”


“It has nothing to do with sins. You are right that there is no winner, but not in the way you think. There are only losers. We are all losers.”


“Pues, cuando niñas y niños hacen mucho ruido, esta molesta mucho a él. Entonces él encuentra los bichitos, les pone en su bolsa y los lleva a su casa y les come.”

“!”



"You sick fuck. I swear to God, first chance I get I'm gonna cut it right the fuck off."

“How does it work?”

“Just put your hands here near mine. Put your fingers up against the side.”

“Okay.”


"We gotta get the fuck out of here."

“Oh my God. What the hell. What the hell!?”



“Entonces si no quieres ser matado y comido, tienes que ser bueno y escucha y ser tranquilo. ¿Entiendes?

"Oh ho, violent little cunt aren't you. You know though. I'm sitting here thinking to myself that I forgot my manners. We've got to pre-heat the oven don't we? I mean really, its just never good unless you're REALLY ready to go and wanting it more then anything."

“Now we both have to think of the same thing. You have to concentrate. Close your eyes. Do you feel anything?”

RRRRRRRRRRRRR

“S-sí. Voy a ser bueno. No quiero morir. No quiero que alguien a me mata.”

SOTF Characters (Taking Requests!)
I dunno how you feel about the double request and all, but since you said you wanted to draw them in the chat, toss Ethan Kent and the poor, late, Sally Connelley to the end of the list. Sally alive would be preferable.

Twists and turns
He squeezed his hand around the weapon, it hurt. The little cuts stung as they pushed back into his skin against the handle.

Inside he was breaking, looking at the girl. The strangest things ran through his mind, things that didn’t seem that important or connected to anything at all. Then he realized they were things of home. The time at the pie shop, the liquor store where he’d go buy soda after school sometimes where the woman knew him by face but not by name, the local skate rink where his sister would always show him up. Those little things and memories that seemed so inconsequential before were suddenly everything and he’d do anything to have them back and be in them again.

His chest tightened and his eye lids fluttered a mile a minute.

“I just….I wanna go home,” he said in barley above a whisper.

Clio, she was a killer and she relished in her kills. Letting her go would be a mistake; she’d only come back to repay them with the kindness found in the barrel of a gun. She and the rest of the senior class were keeping him from home.

It’s not my fault. I have to. I have to. I have to.

“Waste her.”

The Man-slut, the Cocktease and the Lover
((Permission to move Feo with Ethan granted))


The relaxed state of his body threatened to pull him back under the firm grip of sleep but the movement from Feo and the concentrated heat of her lips against his neck brought him back to alertness in a rush of senses. He closed his eyes and smiled.

This slut is trying to play me. She thinks she’s gonna get in my head? Well I can go toe to toe.

He opened his eyes.

“Hey there. Did you sleep okay?”

Gingerly he got to his feet, his back and legs still bruised from hitting the table back at the saw mill. He rotated his left arm a little, trying to judge the range of its motion, feeling the gradually increasing pain as he contorted it further. He straightened up his glasses and looked around. They were alone. He assumed that Duncan had gone to check out that noise he had heard earlier.

Ethan picked up Feo’s bandaged hand and held it up to the level of his face and kissed it.

“Lover boy ran off,” his lips grazing against the skin and bandages as he spoke.

He ran his tongue over the spot he had just placed a chaste kiss. He could feel the texture change from skin to bandage, and then back to skin. The flavors of gauze, dried blood and her mingled together. Climbing up a little further past the knuckle he reached one finger and one absence of a finger. Briefly he found himself wondering how phantom limb syndrome might be factoring into all of this. His thoughts on the matter were interrupted when more loud shouting bounced off the walls.

“We’d better check that out.”

He picked up his bag; a sharpened stick and the glow stick and cautiously went further into the tunnel. Up ahead the two of them saw Duncan standing and looking at something. Ethan held the glow stick up and looked at Duncan, then looked at the girls on the floor.

“Hey Duncan, what- uh, what’s going on here?” he said, cocking his head at the mess.

Two strangers and…..a Fiametta?

“Nice oar.”