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Prepare to Burn
"I'm okay," she replied quietly before reluctantly letting him go. That wasn't true, but it seemed important to him to pretend it was. It wasn't the first time she'd told that particular lie, and it wasn't going to be the last. Scratch that. Here, it just might be. Maybe it'd be for the best to be honest one way or the other, just for one last chance to be herself. It seemed important to Cristo that they were okay, though. She could pretend if it helped him.

There had been someone else here. She knew she'd heard another voice, but maybe they were scared off by more company. Her brow furrowed with concern at that. Abby wasn't exactly intimidating. A dozen dark possibilities for why someone might want Cristo alone here paraded through her mind, but she quickly shook them away. It wouldn't be right to think that about another person without hard proof. Smart, maybe, but not right, and right was more important in the end. "Being around people right now might be...hard, for some folks," she offered. She was about to follow up on that thought when she heard a door squeal open and froze.

Someone was coming in. Someone who hadn't said anything, or knocked, or done anything to let them know if the door hadn't done it for them. That could mean anything. Somebody who didn't know anyone was here. Somebody who didn't want to scare anyone. Somebody who just wanted to pass through without anyone noticing. Sure, could be any of those things. Or something much worse. The uneasy thought drove her to slip up beside Cristo and wrapped herself around his arm. Maybe protectively, maybe seeking protection, maybe both. She wasn't quite sure herself.

Abby was trying real, real hard to believe the best in everyone right now. But with all these shady appearances and disappearances, they weren't making it easy on her.

Abby followed Georgia Lee's lead in setting up her towel and kicking off her shoes, then took the initiative to scurry off into the cool lake with a grin. The water was somewhere between cool and comforting in the mid-day sun, warmed just right for her tastes. She dipped down fully submerged to get the worst of the transition over with, before popping back up with a giggle. She glanced over towards their towels and waved at her companion. "Get on in here, it feels great!"

All around the lakeside were similar scenes of folks getting into the spirit. Little kids splashing, families taking picnics, couples enjoying each other's company. It was a heart warming place, really. It wasn't all perfect, mind, but she liked to see the good in it. Made her trip a little brighter, since she saw plenty of the ugly side of people at work. Here, she could indulge herself in some optimism.

Prepare to Burn
Cristo seemed a little distracted, but that wasn't what was important. He seemed happy, actually happy, to see her. In this crazy place, that was more than she was expecting. She grinned wider and launched herself at him. "Cristo!" It took restraint not to bowl him over when she finally thudded into him and wrapped her arms around him. "You're okay," she said with a tight squeeze...followed by a worried look. "Right? They didn't hurt you?" She'd assumed, but maybe he wasn't. Something terrible could have happened and here she was grinning like a madwoman and threatening to cuddle him in half. Still...he looked okay. That was worth something. It could still be alright.

Someone had been in there with them, but it looked like they'd vanished. There'd been another voice and Cristo had been looking their way, so she wasn't just imagining things, but there wasn't so much as a shadow of them about. Maybe they'd moved on elsewhere, or maybe they just went somewhere else in storage. Cristo didn't seem worried about them, so she didn't give it much thought. She was just overjoyed to have found him so quickly and needed to make sure he was okay. Finding him alone was worth being thankful for, but if he was fine so far, that'd be a near miracle in her book.

God Help the Outcasts
Jane. Of all the people to find her first, it had to be someone like Jane. She was probably loving this, angry, insensitive little twat. Maybe this was it. This was how she died, right here. At least it'd be over. "W-what's the point," she grumbled. "There's nothing to help. We're dead. We're all f-fucking dead." It was a certainty. Sure, she'd heard of some people escaping, but almost everybody died. Last time she was pretty sure everybody did.

'Help?' What a joke. None of them could help each other here. She managed to look up at Jane from her curled up position with nothing but spite in her eyes. "That's what we're here for, right? You gonna kill me now, Jane? Or just pretend to 'help' for a few days before blowing my head off?" They'd both seen the videos. She wasn't that fucking naive. Not Jane. Jane was dumb, but she was also an emotional trainwreck. That's what always made her so fun to wind up. Here, it made her exactly the sort of person Caedyn had to be worried about.

So this was probably it. She didn't have anything to fight with. Her body was still weak and tense and roiling with disgust. Jane would put her down here and that would be the end of it.

What a fucking pathetic way to go.

It didn't suit her.

Ja, what was she doing down here? She was better than this. She was stronger than this. She just...just needed a little time. If Jane could just go fuck up someone else...

Two pieces clicked together. That was an idea worth exploring.

Thirteen Steps
"I don't have any" seemed like a real good excuse to barrel in carrying something, in his opinion. As it turned out, folks lie. Somethin' they did a lot, and anyone who had a mind to kill them probably wouldn't object a whole lot to that either. So he figured Harry had the right idea, gettin' his sword and postin' up for trouble. When their house guest came rushin' through the door, he was ready to dart over and put 'em on the ground as needed, but it was obvious real quick she wasn't a threat. Nah. She was runnin' from the threat.

That only made him tense up more. Christ, how many people were in this building? Granted, the girl...Lizzie, right? So damn many of them Luz kids runnin' around at once it was kinda hard to keep the names straight. But Lizzie here didn't seem too worried about whoever was in the hall. Might be that she's just a jumpy sort. 'course it was also possible she wasn't bright enough to know when she should be scared, since she didn't seem that spooked by him and Harry either. Hard to say what exactly she would find intimindatin'.

Ty held up his hands to Lizzie to show he weren't carryin' nothin' and started edgin' his way towards the door just in case. "Didn't catch a name in all that," he called out to whoever was still outside the door as he made his way across the room. "Who's out there?"

SOTF Grand Map of Doom! v6
Eeeey, can a gurl get a little 7851A9 up in here? :3

Hello! I can draw something for you if you'd like
Aug 20 2016, 11:21 AM
Aug 20 2016, 04:19 AM
supplex me
Amen tho

Thirteen Steps
Goddammit, this better not become a trend. He appreciated the sentiment, but nobody needed to stick their necks out for him. Wasn't right. His problems weren't Harry's or anybody else's, no matter how close they were, and if somebody did something because he was around...fuck, couldn't he see the position that put him in? Talk like that was all well and good until somebody got hurt, but then he'd be just as responsible as whoever'd done it. "I-"

His protest was cut off by a knocking sound at the door. The hairs on the back of his neck shot up as he whirled towards the door. When nobody came through immediately, he was relieved, but he didn't relax. "Harry," he said quietly, "you with anybody? Or do we have company?"

His eyes drifted nervously to the sword against his pack, bringing a frown to his face. Didn't want to touch the thing, let alone use it. Wasn't the sort of thing you picked up unless you were planning to really hurt somebody, and he wasn't. But, if somebody was planning on really hurting him and his, that'd be a different story. How different wasn't real clear, but something might happen. He just really hoped he wasn't about to find out what.

Prepare to Burn
(Abby Floyd Is Doing Things I Guess)


He was with her before they fell asleep. They had been talking about...Lord, her head was fuzzy, but she remembered her heart jumping a little, taking his hand, smiling...

Abby was known for being relentlessly positive. Most people seemed to figure she saw the best in everyone, and mistook that for assuming goodness. If you asked her if she thought people who knew each other for so much of their lives, who lived with each other, some of whom even loved each other...if you asked her if those people could hurt each other, you'd probably expect her to say no. That just didn't seem to fit into the upbeat way she looked at the world.

What do you mean you don't want to involve yourselves?

Abby knew better than that. She firmly believed that the world was a beautiful, wonderful place. She also knew that people did terrible things every day, and she'd seen firsthand that they didn't just do them to strangers. She was well aware that her acquaintances, and even her friends, could do horrible, unthinkable things to her and everyone else they knew given the wrong motivations and the wrong mindset.

She still wouldn't run from anyone who needed her.

That brought her running to the sound of Cristo's voice after she came to. She needed a friendly face to calm her nerves, and she had a feeling he did too. When she turned the shelf and saw him across from her, tears welled up with her relieved grin. "Cristo!" Thank you Jesus, he looked fine. Not well, but fine. Given the circumstances, that was all she could reasonably pray for.

That approval made her grin. She'd feel so guilty if she brought her all the way out here just to have a bad time, so at least the first impression was killing it. "It feels even better! And it won't leave your hair feeling all caked and stringy." Abby didn't mind mess or getting dirty, but the feeling that the pool left in her hair was the worst part of it. She'd be glad not to have to worry about that.

Her eyes found a path to take them down, and she motioned for Georgia Lee to follow her down. "Watch your step," she called cheerily, "it's pretty clear but sometimes folks kick rocks up on it and you don't wanna trip." They seemed to have picked a good day though, the lake wasn't exactly crowded. With renewed excitement in her step, she settled her bag up for the short walk down. Over her shoulder she could see Georgia Lee on the way down, and she smiled to herself. The sun and the trail both complimented her hair nicely. She looked stunning out here in general, not that she wasn't cute as all get out anywhere.

As they reached their spot, Abby set her bag down to make camp. They had towels, extra sunscreen, some water bottles, a few snacks, all the basics you'd need for an afternoon swimming out here. It'd be a nice little trip if things kept going their way.

Thirteen Steps
"I don't know, man. I just..." Ty closed his eyes for a moment. The faces were coming too fast now, and they just kept repeating. What were they supposed to do? He wasn't some hero. He was a piece of shit that hadn't even managed to drag himself out of the ditch, let alone anyone else. Untrimmed nails dug into his palm in tight fists as he shook. "I just don't know."

No point in dragging out over it. Maybe they could all pow-wow and have a neat little breakdown over the whole thing later, but for now they needed a plan, and it didn't sound like Harry was inclined to come up with it. They had to think about safety first and...well, come to think of it, was there actually safety around him? Underneath all the faces, that shit on the screen kept playing in his head. Weren't the first time this had happened, weren't the first time somebody had thought real hard about their friends and thought "Nah, can't be us." Weren't the last time it was gonna turn out they were wrong either, probably. Ty wasn't too concerned about his friends at the moment, though. He was thinking about a different bunch.

"Harry, man," he started quietly "I don't...I dunno if it's safe for you to be around me." He could see it pretty clearly in his head. "You know the kinda...y'know, reputation I've got." Hardly a day went by that he didn't feel like there was some kinda fear or suspicion in the eyes on him about the way he looked, the family he'd come from, the things he'd said and done over the years. "Somebody's liable to...I dunno. Do somethin'. I don't want you caught up in that."

God Help the Outcasts
People. So many people. There were...just people, too many people, more than one and they were close, they were maybe coming this way and they would see her like this and no one could see her like this, not Lily or Jeremy or Josh or even Jazz so certainly not anyone else, no, no, no-


The words tore out of her in a ragged scream without much thought of the consequences. The voices were getting closer and nothing about that was okay, they needed to get out of here, she had to clean herself up, calm herself down, find someone, talk to someone, explain that this was a mistake, that she couldn't be here, she wasn't here, she was...

Deep breath. Not really, through all the sobbing, but deeper than she'd managed so far. It was okay. She could breathe, and get up, and clean herself off, and figure out what was going on. Her hands found the ground and started to push her up.

A spray of blood and bits of bone splashed across her mind's eye. New sobs wracked her body as she sunk back into the ground. There was no plan of action, no comforting gesture or centering desire that could wipe the chaos away from her mind. All she could do was curl up and stop trying to interact with the world. Maybe if she shut it out hard enough, it would go away.

Thirteen Steps
Probably a good thing he remembered to zip up before anybody got here, because he knew that voice, and he turned real quick on it, everything else be damned. Even if his instincts made him tense up here, he was able to relax a little. He even managed a small smile. "Harry. Shit, man. I'd say it's good to see you, but..." He waved a hand at the area. Harry was quick enough, he'd get the message.

His face darkened for a moment. "You okay? I ain't been up long, I've got no idea what's what yet." The trouble could have already started, and Harry looked fine, but hell, things could go south fast. He knew that better than most. Couldn't hurt to check in on him.

The shaking had calmed down a little from seeing a familiar face. Not because it made him any less keyed up, but it gave him some focus. There were people he needed to look out for. Harry, Clarice, Fiyori, Bee...too many to think about. Never figured himself as a popular sort of guy, but in perspective there were more people he cared about than he woulda guessed on the average day. They needed a plan, or something. Which was a goddamn shame, because other than that pissy little display he didn't have a clue what he was doing.

God Help the Outcasts
((G011: Caedyn Miller DEBUT))

The first thing she noticed when she woke up was the smell. It got to her before the realization of where she was, why she was here, even caught up. All she knew was that she was awake, and the smell was permeating her nose. She rose with a look of confused disgust on her face, trying to shake away the cobwebs and figure out where it was coming from so she could get away from it.

After the smell came the feeling, cold and crusty along her legs. Her disgusted look twisted into horror as she realized the smell was coming from her, that she had, that it was...oh god. Oh fucking god. Mr. Graham. The footage. The speech. It was all too much, she'd been crying, and screaming, and then...

She'd seen it too clearly. You expected blood, you knew there would be blood, but it wasn't just the blood, there were chunks, she could have sworn she'd seen chunks and she could still smell the blood over the shit even though that was impossible, it was too far away, she was too far away but she could still smell it and and and-

Her body knew what was happening before her mind did. She doubled over and hurled so hard it made her body spasm. Most of it made it onto the overgrowth below her, but in her retching she managed to splatter plenty along her sarong and into the tips of her dreads. Some of it was still running down her face, dripping down over her top and she couldn't care because even right over that puddle of bile the smell still wouldn't leave her nose.

Caedyn collapsed back on the ground across from the pool and curled up in the dirt. In the background, she could faintly hear a voice singing...or maybe she was just going crazy. Maybe this was just a delusion, or at least a dream. Either way, she squeezed herself together tighter and began to sob.

Thirteen Steps
Y'know, in the back of his mind he always wondered if he'd end up somewhere like this. Just never under these circumstances.

((B016: Ty Yazzie Game GO))

Really made a certain kinda sense when you thought about it. Marcus was a bit of a drinker, and he got it from Beans, who came by it honest from the old man. With how much Ty'd picked up from the old man over the years, he gave himself even odds of ending up in the bottle somewhere. Left to his own devices, at least. It was the kinda cheeky, bullshit thought he had when part of him liked to get sentimental and think of them as a real, if fucked up, family.

Hell. Last thing he did with Beans was drink a beer. Probably said somethin'.

So here he was, sitting in a circle of chairs, waiting for his turn to share. 'cept there wasn't anybody around to chat him up about their problems. The only folks around who could here him where sitting god knows where behind a desk somewhere. Fuck, what an awful job being a desk jockey for this had to be. Everybody panicking and freaking out all over the place like they've probably seen about a million times at this point, or even worse the ones like him, slowly taking inventory and reading up on the supplied material.

Yeah, that'd caught his eye more than the big ol' sword. "Survival Guide." He was a lot more interested in surviving than killing, and maybe they'd put in some tidbits about fresh water. Shelter. Anything that would help ride this thing out. Instead, he found a lotta horseshit that didn't seem worth paying attention to, he'd picked up the gist when they'd murdered Mr. Graham. They were damn crazy, every last one of 'em, and anything he read in there was just going to confirm that. Loony bastards wanted him to get scared, or mad, or whatever would get him in the mood to get jumpy and play along.

He folded the guide back up and hopped up out of the chair, making his way to the center of the ring. His gaze flicked to the only camera he'd manage to spy so far and he gave it a brief nod. A few sounds followed in quick succession.

The guide rustling as it hit the ground.

His zipper squealing as he pulled it down.

His piss hitting the paper and soaking through to the surrounding floor.

A satisfied grunt as he zipped back up and flipped off the nearest camera.

Ty wasn't anybody's wind-up toy. Plenty had tried to scare him into compliance over the years, and here he was. They were gonna have to try a lot harder than that. A lot fucking harder.

Now if he could just stop shaking and believe it.

((Abby Floyd continued from Wasserweber))

In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him. The sea is his, for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land.

The verse echoed in Abby's head as they approached the overlook. It was one of her favorite Psalms, and it rarely felt so crystal clear as when she was standing here on this cliffside, headed to the shores of Lake Mohave. Even on the hottest days, the hour long trip was well worth it to see this gorgeous view. Her hand came up around her locket. Thank you, she thought as she closed her eyes to take a deep breath of that fresh, wild air.

She couldn't spend too long reflecting today, since she had company. Georgia Lee wouldn't be far behind her, so she turned to meet her with a grin. "Isn't it gorgeous?" The whole hour long trip had been Abby's idea to get them out of the crowded, chemical public pool that they always swam in, so she hopped that she liked what she was seeing. It was a big ask for both of them to clear their schedules and get out here, after all.

There wasn't too much reason to worry. It was a beautiful day, and there weren't too many people out, for once. They'd be able to find a quiet spot all their own to swim and chat for awhile, and she was already turning to scout by the time Georgia Lee made it up beside her. "How's that look," she asked, pointing to a bare spot on the near side of the lake. There weren't any groups nearby, and it looked like it'd keep the sun out of their sight-line. You couldn't ask for a lot more than that, in her opinion.

Abby had fun baking with her friends who are nice.

((Abby Floyd Continued Elsewhere))

People II 2: Still Peoplin'


Caedyn was so done with this. Someone had seen them. Ja, now she had to jump on the situation even faster to spin things her way. It'd be a whole thing. She'd have to get in touch with just, so many people, get so many balls rolling, fucking...

This was a disaster. This was worse than Bradley.

She didn't even look at him as she stormed out of the room. If any of her stuff was still in there she'd just replace it later. None of it mattered.

She had work to do.

((Caedyn Miller Continued Elsewhere))

People II 2: Still Peoplin'
Few things are as unwise in nature as agitating an emotional Cassowary, especially when prey has already escaped it once. The task of evading the cassowary's wrath is already a considerable challenge, and any living creature could consider itself lucky to get away with its life after such an encounter. A wise creature, with its will to survive, thrive, and procreate another day in mind, would flee in the opposite direction as fast and far as its appendages can carry it.

The rare Pink-Spotted White Trash was not such a creature. It had left itself vulnerable; its flesh was still exposed from the brief attempt at mating, its guard lowered by evidence of its sullen chortle upon retreat. While the Cassowary rarely tolerated weakness, such a meager display could be forgiven with higher priorities in sight. The search for higher ground and the company of its flock held its attention. In most instances, the Pink-Spotted White Trash would have been free.

Its mistake came with defiantly chucking the Cassowary's discarded plumage into its face. That was an offense that could not be forgiven.


The bra caught Caedyn in the forehead. She wasn't paying enough attention to catch it. For a couple moments, she just stood there blinking in shock. Then her faced turned into a scowl. She caught his sight line and clenched her hands together into tight fists. "God, you're a fucking child!" How dare he? How dare he? Where did he get the balls to pout and sulk like he was the victim here? Typical. Just...typical. Everybody acting like a bunch of whiny little brats and blaming her for their stupid hurt feelings. She should have been used to it, but this? This was a new low, on so many levels.

God this was fucked up. So fucked up. How did she let herself get here? Nobody had ever suffered more than her in this moment. The only positive side of this is that it'd make a great story for her followers later. Fucking men, right? She was done with this bullshit for awhile. Like, at least a week.

Caedyn reached down and picked up her bra, stuffing it angrily in her bag without taking her eyes off of him. "I bet you're cheating on this Jason guy, and I hope he catches you. Just..." She let out an exasperated huff. "If you're so guilty you can't even admit to it despite having a fucking disgusting tattoo with his name on it, don't cheat. Duh. Sort your shit out." Her gaze stayed on him for a few more seconds, before her body relaxed into a resigned slouch. "Fucking baldheads," she muttered as she slung her bag over her shoulder, and turned to leave.

People II 2: Still Peoplin'
Uuuuugh. His rambling was distracting her, as evidenced by the fact that she was technically fully clothed...yet there her bra was lying on the floor. Fuck. Her panties were probably around here somewhere too, as were her leggings. Maybe she'd find them, maybe she wouldn't, it didn't matter. At this point, she mostly just wanted to get out. Go home, post some angry memes, maybe gossip with a friend or two about the shitty night. If he even deserved that much, maybe she shouldn't even acknowledge him. That might bother his clingy, desperate ass even more.

There wasn't much in his whole tirade that stood out to her, it was the usual stuff people tried to hold over her head. Nothing her head wasn't already shouting, and it's not like his opinion actually mattered that much. He'd gotten under her skin once. Once. She wasn't giving him another opportunity. From now on, everything was white noise. Or, more fittingly, white trash noise.

Oooh, she liked that. That was going in a tweet later.

One thing did jump out to her though. Was he really that dense that he thought she just randomly assumed he was gay? How drunk or high or whatever was he that he forgot about his own tattoo? God, this mistake had so many layers to it. She gifted him with one more look, arching her eyebrow up as she reached back to pat over her shoulder once more. "Your tattoo, dumbass." She let the words hang in the air for a moment. "If you don't want people to know you're a 'fag,' " she spat with a disapproving glare over the slur, "Maybe don't advertise it? I know you can't read, but most of us can."