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Miles Behind Us
((Head bonk approved))

"Fuck you! You're not going to hurt me?"

Mara swung the gun up quickly and whacked Virgil in the side of the head.

"As long as I've got this, you won't. I'm not stupid. Drop it or I'll grab one of them," she said nodding towards the two boys.

One of them was taking her side on the matter. It was unusual over the last few days, for sure. Both her hands, wrapped in bandages with blood soaked through, held the gun close.

"I don't know why you're saying that," she said quietly. "I don't know if you actually are one of the few people in class with some brain cells or if you're just trying to curry favor with me in the hopes I help you later. I don't help anyone anymore. If I were going to kill you, I'd have done it already. That's to all of you. But just because I didn't kill you when I could have, doesn't mean I won't do it if you give me a reason," she ended, glaring at Virgil.

"I've taken down guys bigger than you in the last few days," she hissed. "Without the gun, even."

She staggered backwards and hit the side of the overpass. Her hands stayed on the gun, but she leaned her back against the wall and looked up at the overhang.

"I hate it here. Everyone who could have possibly understood me is gone and I'm alone now. I'll be alone for as long as we're here.I have to find Stacy so I can kill her because it's a goal that I set out for myself. I'll feel better. I'm not going to kill one of you ding bats and risk someone doing the same to me. After that, I don't know. I don't know what to do anymore, everything I did before this place is meaningless and now all that I am and all that I'm good at is staying alive. I have nothing. I am nothing," she said, her voice cracking.

Schwarze Rosen
He sat down by the bench on the floor with the meal brick he'd found. He was staring at the ground, past the meal bar as he absently picked at it with his finger nails. He had slightly longer than normal finger nails for a boy because of his guitar playing, but they were clean. He always kept them so.

He briefly glanced up at Rosemary. She had a shotgun. It seemed there was an ever flowing river of guns coming to him. He shrugged and returned to his work, listening distantly to her talk to Joachim. She said she'd lied when she was fine. Not surprising. No one who was still alive could be fine, it just wasn't possible.

But she asked how they were.

"Well, I've been better but all things considered I'm grateful to be in the condition I'm in. I'm not hungry, not hurt, have Joachim, haven't seen anything too terrible," he said lightly.

He smiled reassuringly and left out Sven. He had no desire to talk to her about him. With Cho he'd done it when it had been fresh. He was in real pain and real fear. He'd mentioned it again with the group to gain trust. He didn't want to use it anymore. He didn't want anyone else to know and he didn't want to talk about it ever again.

His stomach growled and he pushed his hand against it. He was so sick of these meal bars. These tasteless horrible meal bars. He never wanted to see another one, but it wasn't like there were a lot of options about it.

"I've had very good fortune to find Joachim. My other traveling companion, she....well...the stressors of this place proved too much for her to handle," he said, crushing part of the meal bar in his hand.

"You can talk about it, if you'd like. Talking often makes people feel better."

Miles Behind Us
Mara was taken aback by Maynard's last statement. She gaped a moment and then thrusted the gun at him once she recovered.

"I...." she started. Her hands clutched the gun close like a teddy bear and her eyes were wide. "I'm just peachy," she growled.

Her pride reared up again. How dare someone like him pity her. She didn't need his pity. Maybe he thought this would buy him time. If he pretended to care about her maybe she wouldn't shoot him. Mara didn't want his pity, right now she only wanted his fear. That would make her feel like there was control. Maybe that would stop the empty, constant ache.

This was all of course broken up by the approach of some guy who was basically the size and shape of a refrigerator. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement and was greeted by some big guy from school.

Her eyes roamed down to the weapon in his hand. She turned and poked him in the chest with the tip of her gun.

"Drop it," she said, nodding at his gun.

Miles Behind Us
((Amaranta Montalvo continued from Exposure))

Mara headed carefully down the slope towards the place marked on the map as an overpass. A good place to haul up. A place where no one would be sneaking up on her for the upcoming night. She traveled in silence, alone as she moved cautiously around the island.

She wished she had alcohol. Mara knew that it would ruin the alertness that was paramount to survival, but part of her didn't care. Her thoughts were a disease. She toyed with the idea of killing another person in some spectacular fashion if it would get her a bottle of Grey Goose from the terrorists. She made it a game with herself. How far was she willing to go to get some alcohol? For how much alcohol? For what kind? What sort of person? Would it be worth it to kill one violent asshole in self-defense for one bottle of vodka? How about for a glass of wine? A cocktail? What about one of the nerdy little girls, cowering and begging? How much would have to be on the table for her to do that?

The only person she truly did want to find was Stacy. She would do her for free. She was the one who absorbed all of her anger.

As she reached the bottom she found two, pretty pathetic, looking boys already down there. She had the m4 carbine in hand and pointed it at the two.

"Have you seen Stacy Ramsey?" she said by way of introduction.

She stared at them a moment. It was the first time she'd seen people for hours and hours. Her eyes wavered. Mara wanted to talk to a friend who knew her and understood how she felt, could sympathize with her. She wanted someone who she could talk to about the unending pain she felt every second of the day from the misery of still being alive in this horrible place. It was also the pain of having nothing. Everything she'd ever valued in life had been ripped away until she had nothing. Even the freedom of having the newfound choice to do whatever she liked was alien and crushing. If she just had someone that would listen and who she knew would honestly care. What she would do to have someone who cared.

But there was no one like that anymore. These two didn't know jack shit about her or what she was like. Everyone like that was dead now, which is why she had to find Stacy.

Schwarze Rosen
Paris looked over at the other two. He heaved a sigh and bit a finger briefly. He looked over his shoulder and smiled again.

"Of course not. You're welcome to stay. You're a friend," he said.

He turned quickly back to the bags and started moving things around again. His smile vanished in an instant as soon as his face wasn't visible anymore. He reminded himself to let it go. Rosemary was on the island so that was pretty much the end of her. It was the end of everyone besides himself, but there was now again a feeling of regret in his chest.

Just let it go. It's as good as done. Let her go. They're both as good as dead.

He imagined himself as the sole survivor on an island burning with the bodies of his classmates. It was reassuring, but sad. Another sigh and he sat down with a meal brick.

One of them wandered off, the weird one. Good. Less good was that it seemed like none of the people she'd come across knew where to find the girl she was looking for. She frowned. How many people were left? One of the remaining kids on the island must have seen her at some point or knew where she might be.

"What I do with Stacy is between myself and her," she said, advancing slightly on Chris.

It seemed like the other girl was also concerned about what would happen once she found her former friend. For the life of her, she didn't understand why either of them was worried, but she was getting impatient.

"I didn't know we were all such Stacy fans in the neck of the woods. What do you care, hu? Finding her will make me feel better. It'd say between the two of us, considering that I haven't killed you yet, I'm the one you'd be rooting for anyway. Not that I care if you like me or not."

And it was true. She wanted to find Stacy because she felt like it would help her cope, but more than that she needed to find her and kill her so that she would have a goal. She needed a purpose and here it was. For now, anyway.

Mara secured her hold on her bag, ready to leave like the other girl had. There was nothing of use left here. She left without saying anything more.

((Amaranta Montalvo continued in....Miles Behind Us))

V4 Part 2 Mafia Game Thread

I feel like shit because real life is trying to kill me and I stopped updating this. REMAINING PLAYERS: continue forward y/n ?

Schwarze Rosen
"Of course I'm right," he said softly, perhaps more to himself than to anyone.

He pulled out a bottle of water and started drinking. After a moment he sighed and twisted the cap back on before throwing it into the bag. They were alright on supplies, especially with Cho's extras. They were well provided for.


Paris turned to look in the direction of Joachim's gaze and lo and behold there stood Rosemary. He didn't know what Joachim's history with Rosemary was, but Paris wasn't overly concerned by her arrival.

"Hey sis," he said playfully.

"How have you been? Have you been alright? Are you hurt?"

The one girl said her shoes were nice, that is what she thought she said anyway. "Well, at least I know with certainty that girl is crazy already," she said pointing to Leona.

Her shoes were disgusting. Maybe they were cute once, but not anymore.

A feeling like wanting to scream was stuck up in her chest. It had been there for a bit, but it was getting worse just like her hearing. What was happening to her? Mara held tightly to the bag on her shoulder, noticing her hands were shaky.

Her breathing started speeding up and she looked quickly around.

"I..." she faltered for a moment. She had something she needed to do. It was something she needed badly to keep going with. She needed this thing as a goal so she wouldn't fall apart. It was happening already, she was coming apart.

"I need to find Stacy Ramsey. Blonde, this tall? Cheerleader and kind of an idiot? She killed two of my friends," she said, staring intensely. Then she put a finger to her chin and seemed to reconsider.

"Well, one of my friends. The other was more of kind of a casual acquaintance who sort of hung around the same places as I did sometimes. Anyway, we have to have a talk and if you've seen her it's for the best if you tell me where."

Schwarze Rosen

Paris seemed to be considering what Joachim had told him. He still looked a bit dreamy, a bit absent. While he listened he was also still looking around the aviary.

"It's understandable for you to be upset. It would be much stranger if you weren't. By now I think that there's probably not a single person who doesn't feel at least a little like you. We've all lost someone that we've known for years by now, it's impossible that someone hasn't yet."

Unlike before, although he stood next to the other boy he didn't make an effort to touch him. It was uncharacteristic of Paris, who was always touching someone, putting a hand on a shoulder or a pat on the back.

"Even then, the people who are left may be just as far gone. They might be untrustworthy or evil now, fallen into the temptation of the game. That too, is understandable. Not everyone is strong enough to withstand the test. I'm lucky to have survived my encounters with those types. And I am also lucky to have met you."

He sighed deeply and went back to the supplies, fishing around.

"This is a good place to rest."