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Imprimatura
All right, that settled it. They had a plan. Get to the bell tower, find out what's going on, and hopefully get some help to escape the island. It was the best lead they had, so they were going to follow it. With how few options they had, they really didn't have any better choices. Barry was going to remain optimistic, though. They had an opportunity, and he was going to make the most of it.

"Okay, I guess we've got a plan." He stated to his allies. "Let's find a way out of here and get to the tower." He readjusted his bag's strap to make it a bit more comfortable and started walking down the hall in search of an exit. He kept his head up and put a smile on his face to maintain his high spirit. He told himself that their plan was going to work. He believed that it was going to work.

((Barry Banks continued in 人生の曲))

Lone Wolfe
Thankfully, Nixon pulled off his mask, sparing the world from his horrible plastic visage for the time being. The man behind the mask, Caleb, wasn't exactly someone that Rene was a huge fan of, but it could be worse. At least he had a sense of humor. Plus, he was definitely a better possibility than the serial killer that she had been expecting. However, she was deeply disappointed that he did not announce his presence by stating that he was not a crook.

She crossed her arms and smirked at the new arrival. "So we've got a dick in a Tricky Dick mask. That's a new one." She chuckled at her own joke. "Got lost on the way to the Oval Office?"

Before Rene could continue her impromptu routine, the sound of a bell ringing came through the hallways. Rene looked up and angled her eyes in the direction she was pretty sure she heard the sound coming from. Rene wasn't sure whether it had come from one of her classmates or the terrorists, but whoever it was, it certainly gave her a lot to think about. She looked back at the two guys in the hall and pointed her thumb in the direction she had just been staring.

"So... you guys just heard that, right?"

Imprimatura
Barry immediately took notice of Jonathan's reaction to his gun. Admittedly, he didn't know very much about guns, but just from Jonathan's face, he could tell that he had a good one on his hands. Still, he didn't have any plans of using it in the near future, at least not outside of the most dire situations. He had never really considered himself the aggressive type, and violence didn't come naturally to him at all. He was more of a talker. He hoped to rely more on speech than shooting, but he supposed that it was nice to have his options open.

Wow... just thinking like that made Barry a little uncomfortable. Were the terrorists already starting to get into his head? He shook it off and tried to focus on the task at hand.

Then he heard the bell. It was a muffled, distant sound thanks to their current location, but there was no mistaking it. Before Barry could ask, Jonathan had already pointed out the Bell Tower on the island. It was surprisingly close. The walls must have been better at absorbing sound that he had expected. Jonathan proposed the idea of heading for the Bell Tower, an idea that gave Barry some pause.

Barry started thinking out loud. "Well, the bell sounded, so there's probably going to be at least some people there." He figured that the bell would cause most people to either head for the tower or deliberately move away, but he knew that someone had to be there in order to make it ring in the first place. "Could be dangerous, but we've also got a chance to get some more people on our side. Plus, a bigger group means a better shot at getting out of here."

He turned to Jonathan and Tina. "So what do you guys think? Yay or nay?"

Lone Wolfe
Rene could tell that she and Sam had one thing in common: Neither of them had a goddamn clue what they were supposed to do. So to recap, she had no plan, nobody she had spoken to had a plan, and there was still the matter of the mysterious third person in the vicinity who may or may not be a serial killer, complete with creepy mask and theme music that announces their arrival. In other words, she had made no progress at all aside from realizing that she should have just faked sick and watched YouTube all day instead of going on the science trip.

From this point came an uncomfortable silence, a time when nobody knows what to say, either due to awkwardness or dumbfoundedness, and just lets the ambient sounds of the area take over. Unfortunately, the ambient sound in the hallway now included a creaking door, and it caught the attention of both teens in the hall.

What happened next was almost indescribable. Someone leaned out of the doorway. Not too weird, at least not until one mentions the fact that they were wearing a freaking Richard Nixon mask. Then, as if they wanted to deliberately make matters worse, they threw up a peace sign. Rene didn't know what to say. Hell, she didn't know what she could say to that.

She gripped the strap of her bag tightly and stared straight at the abberation. Every synapse in her brain was telling her to run, but her feet were too busy trying to get over the shock of whatever the hell was happening at the moment. For now she could only watch as madness stared at her from down the hall.

Damn it, I was only joking when I told myself there might be a serial killer here.

Imprimatura
All right, so Jonathan had a tape recorder, which meant that he was functionally unarmed. Bummer. Barry didn't want to put any pressure on anyone else, so he decided to be the next one to ruffle through his bags. He knelt on the ground and unzipped his bag for the first time to uncover the secrets within.

As soon as Barry got a good look into his bag, he discovered a whole lot of survival supplies, far more than he thought their kidnappers would have provided for them. Apparently they had been expecting a long game. To be honest, Barry wasn't quite sure if that idea was more or less terrifying than the possibility that the terrorists could have left them with next to nothing. He dug through what seemed to be a wall of dry, packaged foodstuffs mixed with various other items until he felt something metallic graze his hand. His interest piqued, he pushed his first aid kit to the side to get a better shot at gripping whatever had just come into contact with his hand. He was able to grasp what felt like a handle, and pulled it out of the cluttered bag to see what he had received, unintentionally dragging a piece of paper along the way.

It was definitely a gun of some sort, that was for sure. It certainly had the shape for it. Barry had never held a gun before, but it felt unlike anything he had ever held in his hands before, certainly nothing like the water guns he had played with as a kid. Here he was holding an incredibly powerful object, a weapon that could cripple or kill in an instant. It wasn't a comfortable feeling. If anything, it only further reminded him of the grimness of their situation. He never thought that he would have something so lethal in his grip, and he didn't feel like he was supposed to.

He picked up the piece of paper with his spare hand and read the printed title aloud. "MAC-10." So that was what he had. He examined the accompanying diagram. "Huh, so the bullets go in there." He looked at the hole in the bottom of the gun where he was meant to feed the magazine. Yep, this was definitely a real gun, no fooling. He didn't really think it would be especially helpful in finding people, but at least they had some way to protect themselves. He carefully put the MAC-10 on top of the mess that was the inside of his bag, and turned to Jonathan before zipping it back up.

"We definitely need to get people together. We stand a better chance if we stand united. Us three and whoever else we meet up with."

It Belongs in a Museum
He knew it. Jennifer had noticed his smell. Bart wasn't really offended. After all, he had figured that it was his most notable characteristic. However, that didn't mean that he particularly liked to be reminded of it, intentionally or otherwise. At least she wasn't trying to be rude about it, though. That was a luxury that a lot of people hadn't bothered with in the past.

"It's a medical condition." He said with a noticable undertone of disappointment in his voice. "It's been following me for years, and it doesn't look like it's going to go away anytime soon." He closed his eyes and took a breath. "It's not like I haven't tried to do anything about it, but it always comes right back."

Well, he had just spilled the beans about something that he rarely, if ever talked about with anyone outside of his parents. Either he had just opened up a new can of worms, or he had totally killed the current conversation. Either way, he couldn't deny that it actually felt kind of nice to really admit the source of his perpetual odor to someone.

It didn't really comfort him much, but it was something.

Little Pig
Oh good, it was someone Bart recognized. Jennifer, from the writing club. He remembered running into her at the art museum a while ago as well, but the writing club connection was probably what she would remember more. "Y-yeah! It's me!" He squeaked out.

When Jennifer came up to the doorway, Bart became very nervous. She had sounded so irritated just moments ago, and now she was right in front of him, looking right at him. He didn't know how to respond. If she had a gun, then she could jut shoot him right there and be done with it. Without thinking beforehand, he suddenly began to recount his experiences in the asylum thus far.

"I, uh..." He began unsteadily. "I woke up in a cafeteria, and I... I was really freaked out, and I didn't know what to do..." He was breathing very heavily, hoping that he wasn't making himself look suspicious. "I st- I started walking through the halls... there, uh... there wasn't really a lot to see..." He was having a bit of trouble putting sentences together. "And I, uh... I saw the paintings on the floor, and I wanted to- wanted to get a better look at them."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Then I heard a noise come from in here and I got freaked out, so I froze up, and now... now..." He couldn't come up with a way to finish that sentence. He just sniffed and winced as he stood in front of Jennifer, hoping that she wouldn't respond with violence.

Imprimatura
Barry didn't want Beaks and Scarlett to leave. He knew that they would be better off sticking together. However, Barry's plan of staying put and figuring things out conflicted with Beaks' desire to leave the area as soon as possible. He couldn't help but feel guilty as he watched Beaks and Scarlett leave. He felt as though there was more that he could do to keep them safe within their group, but he couldn't find any words to convince them as they walked away.

It certainly didn't help him feel any better when Jonathan immediately called them out on letting Beaks and Scarlett just leave like that. Barry had been thinking the exact same thing, but it somehow felt a thousand times worse when someone else was shouting it in shock. Sure, Jonathan apologized right after, but that didn't make it sting any less.

They needed a plan, and Barry needed to come up with something that would help all of them. He ran through a few different ideas in his head, trying to find one that would work out best for them, but kept finding flaws with whatever he thought up. He eventually came to the conclusion that he should just try to keep it simple for now, and branch off from there.

"All right, I have an idea." He declared to his two remaining companions. "We've gotta know what we're dealing with here, so I think we should check our supplies so we know what we have on hand. Plus, knowing what our weapons are will probably make u a little less nervous. After that, we can try to find Beaks and Scarlett again."

He gave a hopeful look to Jonathan and Tina and waited for a response.

Lone Wolfe
So on the positive side of things, Sam wasn't going to shoot Rene in the face, at least not immediately. Given the circumstances, she was willing to take whatever she could get in terms of good news. Come to think of it, did she even know what her weapon was? No, no she did not. Rene made a mental note to check that out at some point. That was probably important if she wanted to get a leg up on the whole "not dying" thing.

Wait a moment... oh fuck, did she hear mumbling? Apparently Sam heard it too, since he was looking that direction as well. As far as Rene was concerned, there were only two explanations for quiet, unexplained voices in creepy-as-hell buildings. The first was that there was some creepy guy hiding away who is all set to reenact a slasher flick once the unsuspecting teenagers happen upon him. The other possibility, of course, was ghosts. Since Rene had doubts about the supernatural significance of the island, she was leaning more towards the first option.

Since Sam seemed to be of the notion that they should stay the hell away from whoever was sharing he hall with them, Rene took that as evidence that he was thinking pretty much the same thing. She couldn't argue with that. She just gave a nod and a thumbs up accompanied by a response. "Stay away from the creepy voice behind the door. Gotcha. Any other plans for the time being?"

SOTF Grand Map of Doom! v6
I would like to claim Indigo as my color.

Little Pig
Bart felt a shock go through his body when the girl in the room spoke. Her voice sounded angry and irritated, not friendly at all. He dropped the painting he was holding, raised his hands, and slowly stood back up. He could feel his legs shaking as he did so. He really didn't want to come off as intimidating or menacing. Considering how mad the girl seemed, that could only end very badly for him.

"I-it's Bart! Bart Cappotelli!" He nervously stammered out. "I was just looking at the pictures on the ground! I didn't know anyone was here!"

He started to sweat a little. He wasn't ready for a fight, and he was very afraid that one may be about to occur. He remained still while he waited for the girl to respond, less out of patience and more because he was very afraid about what was going to happen next.

Imprimatura
Barry was surprised that Beaks was still running with the theory that all of this was just a big prank set up for whatever reason. Personally, Barry had thrown out any idea of their situation not being real once he saw Samuel Graham get his head blasted open, but he doubted that would be enough to change Beaks' mind. Besides, trying to force his own opinions on other people had never really been his thing in the first place. But the fact that Beaks was planning on walking right out the door... that didn't sit too well with him. He wanted to make sure that they had time to fully realize their situation before heading out into whatever was outside.

"Hey Beaks, are you sure that's a good idea?" Barry said to the shorter boy. "I mean, we have no idea what's out there. I think it would probably be better for us to stick together and figure things out here, you know?"

Barry had never been the greatest at speaking aside from giving pep talks in the locker room, but he hoped that Beaks would give him a listening ear. For now, all he wanted was to try to help as many people as he possibly could, and the more people stuck around, the more he could help.

Imprimatura
Barry was caught off guard by Beaks' reaction to their ordeal. He seemed to think that everything was just an elaborate prank, or some kind of act that was supposed to make them all look like fools. The others immediately rounded on him to point out the holes in his theory, from Samuel Graham being killed right in front of them to the collars around their necks. Barry didn't feel like there was much to add to the takedown of Beaks' theories, so he just put his hands on his hips and sadly shook his head. He didn't really need words to express how he felt about the situation.

He looked over to Jonathan, who was trying to say something but seemed to be having some trouble getting the words out. He was about to ask what he was trying to say before Jonathan managed to get it out on his own. He wanted everyone grouped there to join up and work together, like a team.

Barry immediately smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that's what we need to be doing. Teamwork." He liked this plan. He liked it a lot. He always felt most confident when he was on the field with the soccer team, so why not form a team on the island? By working together, they had a better shot at finding a way to survive than if they all broke off on their own. This could work. It was going to work. He could feel it.

Lone Wolfe
Rene just stood there, staring, not saying a word. The big guy seemed to have the same plan, just staring silently. One advantage of prolonged staring is that it gives a chance to identify someone that one may have passing knowledge of. Thanks to this, she was ale to recognize them as Sam... Sam... well damn, she didn't think she knew his last name. Anyway, he was Sam, and that was good enough for her.

So now that she knew who she was looking at, that was one problem solved. Of course, she still had to deal with the secondary problem of the... what was that, some kind of crossbow? Anyway, she had to make sure that it didn't wind up pointed at her for any reason.

Maybe Rene would have come up with a plan to defuse the tense yet silent situation. However, anything that she may have said next was immediately interrupted by what sounded an awful lot like a door forcefully slamming down the hall. Her gaze immediately snapped away from Sam and directed itself past him, staring down the hall. Rene finally broke the silence, saying something in an attempt to make the situation just a little less awkward.

"Looks like we're not alone here."

Imprimatura
Barry stood up and dusted himself off. He would have bemoaned the fact that his new shorts had already gotten dirty if there had not been many, many more significant problems in his life at the moment that required greater attention. He readjusted the bag strap on his shoulder and looked to Jonathan, who was pulling something out of his bag.

His eyes widened in surprise once he realized that Jonathan was offering him some of his food. He honestly didn't know how to respond to that. Sure, Barry had just helped him out of a pretty big jam, so he's not surprised that he would want to return the favor but... giving him part of his assuredly limited food supply? That was unexpected. It was also a deal that Barry could not take in good conscience. He held up a hand and shook his head.

"Keep 'em. You're gonna need those just as much as I need mine."

After refusing Jonathan's kind offer, he heard a someone call out and looked over to see a couple of new faces show up. Barry dug into his memories to put names to faces, and came up with Scarlett and Beaks. He waved to them and gave them a friendly greeting.

"Hey there! We just had a little problem with a door, but it's all good now."

Little Pig
((Bart Cappotelli continued from Season Cut Short))

Bart's walk through the asylum was not a pleasant one. He had never been a fan of horror movies, so taking a walk in a decrepit old mental hospital that looked like the set of some summer slasher movie did nothing to put him at ease. His stress level was still quite high, and his face still had noticeable salt trails from his crying jag back at the cafeteria. From his expression alone, it was easy to see that he was an emotional mess.

He walked through the lonely halls with nothing to keep him company but the sounds of his own footsteps and the occasional reminder of how the building has felt the combined forces of nature and the passage of time. Strangely, the random patches of indoor vegetation and eroded scenery didn't bother him as much as he would have thought. Despite how unnerved he was by his current location, it was more the situation that was making him miserable.

Bart's aimless wandering eventually brought him to a new area of the asylum. As he continued to look around, his attention was drawn to a couple of paintings lying on the ground in a nearby doorway. He approached the paintings cautiously to get a better look at them. They looked a bit messy, but not too bad.

He was crouching to pick one up when he heard a sound come from inside the room, like something had hit a wall. He froze and looked through the doorway to see a tall girl standing inside. He didn't know what to do, but he was too nervous to make a move.

Imprimatura
Barry pulled as hard as he could, despite his awkward grip on the door slot. He tried to keep a strong stance and brace his feet against the ground to send more power to his arms. He focused intently on the door and stared at it intensely as he continued to pull at it with all the force he could muster.

That was when it happened. He heard the door's hinges creaking. He could feel it starting to give way. he tightened his grip further, despite feeling the incredible strain on his fingers. He leaned pack and pulled his arms back as hard as he could, doing some sort of reverse lunge in an attempt to break through the door's last defenses.

Thankfully, the combined force of the three students managed to break through the rusty barrier, and the door swung open. Barry released the door slot, but was now falling backwards with no way to stop himself. He tried to brace himself for the fall as he collapsed against the floor, thankfully not hitting his head too hard on impact.

Barry sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He saw the one who had been trapped behind the rusted door, the small yet instantly recognizable figure of Jonathan Gulley. He said the first thing that came to mind once he was no longer recoiling from his fall.

"Oh, hey Jonathan."

Lone Wolfe
Rene kept listening, hoping that she would be able to hear something else. She thought that she heard a few faint noises, but nothing that stuck out as incredibly alarming as of yet. She slowly took a few steps toward the door, pondering whether or not leaving would be a good idea. Sure, she had unknown company nearby, but she had a feeling that staying in her drab, featureless room for too long would drive her insane, or at the very least make her incredibly bored. Yes, leaving definitely seemed like the best option at the moment.

... Or at least, that's what she was thinking right up until she was right next to the door. That was when she started having second thoughts. Most of these thoughts revolved around her earlier hypothesis that she was sharing the floor with a murderer. But hey, it had only been... okay, Rene actually had no idea how long she had been out, so it could have been anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours since the... should she even call it a game? Well, the point was, this whole mess couldn't have been going on for too long at this point. People can't have been going crazy yet, right? Yeah, there was definitely nothing to worry about. Yet.

Rene turned the knob and slowly, carefully opened the door. This went off without a hitch for the most part, at least until the door squeaked right as it opened enough for Rene to sneak through. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut in annoyance for a moment, hoping that bit of noise didn't attract too much attention. She leaned out the doorway to see if there was anything of interest down the hall.

Sure enough, there has a big guy standing in the hall. He has holding something that Rene couldn't see clearly, but she assumed was a weapon of some kind.

Well, shit.

Imprimatura
((All right, getting settled into the order now.))

Barry clapped his hands twice in response to the man behind the door. "All right, just give me a moment to get a grip, and we'll be good." He surveyed the door. There was one large slot that he could see through, probably meant to send meals and the like to inmates. Barry slipped his hands through and managed to get a grip on the door. "Watch out, don't hurt my fingers."

He turned to Tina. "All right, find a grip and pull on my go. We're breaking him out of there." He focused his attention back on the door. "Okay, we're almost ready out here, just listen for my word."

Barry took a deep breath. "3..." He felt his muscles tensing up. "... 2... " He gritted his teeth. "... 1..." He tightened his grip further.

"GO!"

Lone Wolfe
Rene grimaced and snatched the duffel bag off the bed, maybe a bit too forcefully. Hey, it was the only way she had to express her anger at the moment, and considering that the bag had been sitting atop a nice, not-completely-terrible bed while she had spent what was likely a few hours on the cold-hard ground, she felt justified in her actions.

She put her hand on the bag's zipper and was about to investigate its contents when she heard a sound coming from the next room. Something like... a yawn? Crap, she wasn't alone here. Now, Rene wasn't exactly what one would call an introvert, but she would have preferred maybe an hour or two to herself before she had to start getting involved with the social structure of crazy murder island. Unfortunately, fate just didn't seem to be a fan of hers today.

Rene wasn't sure what to do, so she froze for a moment. Moving around too much would make noise, which could draw whoever was in the next room over to her room. While it wasn't an absolute certainty that whoever was in the next room was a psychotic killer who was currently in the process of cleaning the fresh muscle tissue out of their machete, that was a possibility that Rene genuinely had to consider, given the circumstances. But on the other hand, just keeping still wouldn't actually help her much either, since in all likelihood, someone would wind up coming around eventually anyway, and the longer she stuck around, the more people would start losing it and going into psycho-killer mode.

In response to the situation she found herself in, Rene gave a loud, annoyed sigh. This was really not what she had signed up for.