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New Official V5 Away Thread
Handler: Espi
Dates Away: January 31st-February 3rd
Days Away: 4
Reason for Away: Moving into our new house, internet won't be connected for a few days.
Characters: Gwen O'Connor

A Conflict of Interests
In a way, Nancy was almost glad Theo had died.

She'd followed him, followed the last 5 days of his life, and it'd been the most difficult thing she'd ever done. Nothing could compare to watching her big brother break apart and become someone he wasn't someone horrible and violent and...pitiful, in a way, when he was beaten and helpless at times, and yet at the same time it was so hard to watch as 4 people died by his hand, his deliberate actions.

The hardest part, though? His actual death was so horrible she had to hold back tears. To go out like that was just heart-wrenching. She watched, but more out of horror than interest. She didn't want to see it, but she had to, to accept that he was never coming home.

Nancy had a lot to think about now. Who was her big brother now? He'd been a different person on the island, no longer the nerdy but sweet guy she'd grown up with. She wanted so much to pretend she'd always remember him as he was before SOTF, but watching someone do such terrible things made that hard to swallow. SOTF wasn't him, B027 wasn't him, but Theo wasn't Theo in the way he'd been before.

She supposed it was another thing she had to figure out at some point.

But now he was gone forever, and she'd never see him again, and that hurt. But in a way, she'd always known she'd never speak to him again, even if he'd come home. How could she? But now it was over, and she could let him rest in peace. Watching this had made her guilty, it'd eaten away at her. But now she could accept he was dead, and let him go.

She could accept he was gone now. Now she could close the laptop, go up and talk to mom and dad and cry into their arms, and start going to the therapy with them and reply to all her friend's texts and calls.

She could move on, as life was wont to do.

Nancy Fletcher: Moving on

Face The Sky
((Gwen O'Connor's story continues from Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night))

The Tower had seemed like a good place to look for someone. If Maynard happened to be in the general area, she'd likely be able to spot him from up there. It was entirely possible that he'd never come anywhere near the airport, but Gwen could hope. It hadn't been to long, and according to the map the hospital where she'd last been with him was fairly close by.

Still, standing and gazing out the windows was made significantly less majestic by the presence of the several-day-old corpse of Aria behind her. It was...not a pretty sight, and Gwen had nearly retched when she'd come in. Now she was used to the smell, but that wasn't entirely pleasing for it's own reasons.

Gwen twirled a lock of her violet hair around her index finger. In her reflection out the window, she could already see the roots. She had been here so long, it was odd. So many people were dead already, yet the lazy pacifist vegetarian goth of all people had made it so far when people like Adonis Alba and Naomi Bell were long-gone. She supposed in a game like SOTF, luck was just as important as skill or intelligence or ruthlessness.

Funny how things worked out like that. Funny and tragic, but funny.

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night
((Gwen O'Connor' story continues from Reverie))

Gwen found herself by a beach of all places after running for so long. It had probably been hours; she'd run during announcements, run and run and run as long as she could and eventually she arrived at a beach.

Gwen had never been to a beach, and she'd certainly never run as far as she did today. It was getting late in afternoon, it seemed, or close to it based on the position of the sun. She'd staggered, dropped her bag and slumped to the sand.

She sat and gazed blankly at the waves gently rolling onto shore for a while before she could breathe and think again.

There was a lot to consider. For starters, Michelle's plan was a complete failure. Gwen wished that wasn't true, but this game was never going to end peacefully. Too many people, from Theodore to Hansel to now Kammy, Eliza, Katarina, and so many others to come, would keep killing, just for a shot home. Most would fail, but that glimmer of hope kept them killing, so they were never going to be dissuaded.

Gwen had heard the announcements hours ago. More people were dead, but nobody she really knew, so in a way it didn't matter much to her anymore; they were just names, barely even faces anymore. Which was disturbing; how could someone like her, who cried when she saw those poor cats and dogs on the animal shelter commercials, suddenly not care about people who were being slaughtered?

Gwen didn't want to think about it too hard, but she knew better than to pretend she wasn't changing. It was impossible to not change in this situation, and Gwen was probably hardening already.

It was scary to think that.

Still, it was better to think that than to think of her friends. Eliza was probably still in the hospital, Michelle was wounded, and Maynard, Adam and Virgil were sound asleep and defenseless and-

"Shut up!" She gasped, and began sobbing. She sobbed because she knew, she knew they could be dead, Michelle abandoned and bleeding alone in the dark, and Maynard, poor sweet Maynard, dead by her hands because even though Gwen had not harmed him she'd left him helpless with a killer and if he died it might as well be all



Gwen was a killer, a murderer by inaction, guilty of manslaughter for abandoning the only people she'd been with, friends with, trusted, cared about, on the island. Left them to die. She couldn't be strong when it counted and that was absolutely detestable.

Gwen sat for a while, sniffling and gasping for air and periodically bursting into fits of sobbing. She couldn't handle the stress anymore, the guilt on top was just too much, and she couldn't hold it back anymore.

It took some time, but eventually she'd recovered enough to function. She stood up, rubbed her eyes and wiped tears from her cheeks, leaving smears of the remnants of her eye makeup. She wanted food, and she needed to check her supplies. Rooting through her bag, Gwen determined she had four ration bars, a loaf of bread and a tin of crackers, as well as two water bottles. That was fairly good, she supposed.

The bread loaf was dry but satisfying.

As she ate, Gwen looked out to sea again. She needed to do something, she couldn't just wander aimlessly. That would just be a waste of time. Like at home, she'd wasted so much time, and she wasn't going to waste it now that there was so little left. So what could she do? She had so few options. What could she do?

She could find Maynard, if he was still alive. The second it came to her, Gwen knew that was her new goal. Nothing could be more important to her than finding him,

She...cared about him, more than anyone else on the island anymore. She couldn't let anyone hurt him.

So she stood, her daypack over her right shoulder, and she walked away from the sea and the setting sun with grim determination on her face. She had nothing left to do on this island but find her...find Maynard. Throw out, just throw out everything she'd known before, all those experiences and events in her past and just focus on the goal, orient herself towards the thing she desperately needed to do.

Find Maynard Hurst one more time.

God help anyone who tried to stop her.

((Gwen O'Connor's story continues in Face The Sky))

Gwen screamed.

She squealed in terror as the gun went off the first time and blasted the wall behind her.

She screamed louder and more shrilly as the next shot blasted into Michelle.

Gwen had been lucky until now. She'd never faced someone violent, never been directly faced with a fresh death until yesterday afternoon and had overall had a fairly pleasant island experience compared to many others, she imagined.

But that relative peace and comfort made the inevitable shattering of the illusion so much more painful. Gwen froze for an eternally long yet simultaneously split, second, as no thoughts or ideas or emotions ran through her mind but terror.

Michelle was still holding the gun, still standing, talking, breathing, but not for long, and Gwen couldn't do anything to help her now.

But run.

She heard Michelle tell her to run and she did, stumbling out of the room, past the still-sleeping Adam and Virgil and Maynard who she wanted to reach out to but didn't and, with a brief grasp to take her bag, out of the hospital.

She didn't, wouldn't, couldn't look back as she staggered gasping into the dawn and away from her false pretenses of anything resembling security.

((Gwen O'Connor's story continues in Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night))

Gwen had a lovely night. She'd spent it talking with Maynard, mostly, and it made her so happy that he was still alive and well and hadn't been endangered or anything. His friend Natali had died, which was really sad, but Gwen was mostly just glad Maynard was okay. Plus all the canned foods they found, while not exceptional, were much better than the rations they'd been assigned, and a new thing to enjoy was always so much better than just eating the same old thing.

Adam was nice, and Gwen still had Michelle and Virgil, who were also really nice. Gwen was glad she'd met up with this group. She'd been lucky to stay safe and comfortable (relatively) for so long, while so many other people were scared and alone.

For the first time, Gwen slept easily that night.

Gwen was awoken the next morning by the sound of talking. She'd always been a light sleeper, so she blinked awake when she heard Michelle's soft voice. She heard her talking, saying some rather unsettling things. Gwen sat up. Everyone was still here but Michelle, which meant

someone else was inside the hospital.

Gwen made a point of not running, but walking slowly and methodically down the hallway and towards the supply closet.

"Michelle, who is-"

Gwen was interrupted as she froze at the sight of the gun Eliza was holding.

New V5 Reduced Activity Notices
I'm moving again, so I need to ship my computer in advance (it's a desktop). Thus, coupled with the traveling and settling in, it'll be a bit before I'm able to be on as often. I do have a kindle and my dad's laptop so I should be able to keep up with posting, but I might not be as active in chat, etc.

V5 Fourth Announcement
It matters not who you are. Death awaits you.

(Alternate title: Death is not a hunter unbeknownst to it's prey)

Fill your hand, you son of a bitch.
There are a lot of things Theo would've preferred to think of has Hansel beat him to death with a pipe.

He would've loved to be able to say a final farewell to his mom and dad and sister. Nancy was a good girl, and she was gonna go places, hopefully. He was kind of a shit big brother though, and now he'd never see his family again.

He wanted to apologize to Hansel. It had been all his fault that he'd gotten shot, all his fault. Maybe if they'd hit it off, and not fought, the two would've done some good on this island. Instead, they both became murderers, and wrought evil upon others.

He wanted to apologize to Gabby, Dan, Xavier and their families. He would've wanted to apologize to Bianca's too, if he knew what had happened to her. He'd done something terrible to them, and there really wasn't any excuse. He didn't deserve any sympathy, but he did wish he could help the families heal. Instead, they'd watch him die. Maybe that would help them too.

Theo wished he could go back in time, fix things, not kill people. He wasn't a religious person, so he didn't really have any faith in what would happen to him now. Whether it was hell, reincarnation as a dog or something, or nothing, Theo deserved the worst of it. He had always had a choice. He could've been good, done nothing. He would've gone to heaven then, maybe, if there was one. He doubted that was going to happen now though, unless God was feeling particularly pitying for him.

Actually, forget that. He just wished this had never happened, that version 5 of Survival of the Fittest had never transpired for the Aurora class. So many people dead, it was such a waste. Theo could've done great things, made himself something big, but instead he was dead, gone forever.

Instead of all that though, Theo got a massive blow to the skull, dropping him to his knees. Unable to focus, dazed and rattled, he could barely concentrate enough to form a solid thought before the next blow crushed his skull and ended his life forever.

He just wished he had a chance. So many choices, but in the end he never would've made it out alive.

88 students remaining

Fill your hand, you son of a bitch.
Thank god thank god thank god thank god

Theo sat up, sobbing into his hand, the pain slowly diminishing but the terror didn't. He couldn't see, he might never see again, he tried to stand but he was so off-balance he stumbled and fell to his knees and he sat on the ground sobbing, unable to fight.

A moment later he fought anyway, standing and blinking and trying to hear Hansel's steps. His vision was dark, blurry shapes, but he saw movement a few feet away. He stumbled as he moved forward, trying to get at Hansel.

He tripped.

Landed on his hands and knees he tried to get back to his feet.

Theo wasn't ready to die, not yet. He wanted to much to live right now, to win this fight and get out alive.

Fill your hand, you son of a bitch.
As Hansel drove his fingers into Theo's eyes, there wasn't much going though his head.

Besides the pain.

It hurt.

Theo screamed, and struggled and tried to fight because oh god his eyes his eyes his eyes his eyes oh god oh god

He drove his left knee into Hansel's crotch, hard as he could, fast as he could.

Fill your hand, you son of a bitch.
The moment he reached the gun, Theo scooped it off the floor and whipped around.

He received three things that moment. The first, relief as he went for the trigger, knowing that he'd won this, he had finally won a fight with someone, he had done something right.

The second was panic as he realized the rock flying towards his face was indeed about to hit him in the face. It did so, and he dropped the gun grabbing his forehead as stars danced in his vision and blood dribbled down his face.

The third was terror, abject terror as he felt a massive wall of force slam him to the ground. His head hit the stone with a crack, and he blinked, dazed by the blow.


Fill your hand, you son of a bitch.
Theo fell to the ground, landing on top of Hansel. He recovered quickly, and immediately he realized something. Something he probably should've considered before going off on this already risky escapade.

He couldn't physically kill Hansel without a weapon, at least not easily. He sucked in his breath as Hansel just missed his face with his strike.

Theo realized just how dangerous this was. One mistake could be lethal. He needed to be fast, incapacitate Hansel before he could fight back. His reaction was instinctive and brutal. Theo slammed his elbow into the other boy's face, feeling the force of the blow jar his arm.

He scrabbled up, climbing off of Hansel and darting for the dropped gun.

Fill your hand, you son of a bitch.
((Theodore Fletcher's story continues from I'll Face Myself (Another Version)))

Theo had wanted to set up camp somewhere, find a place to rest and see if he could catch anyone out there. It would be made a Danger Zone eventually, but it was worth a shot. Unfortunately this tactic was made improbable by the fact that his chosen location, the plane hangar, was housing one Hansel Williams.

Theo…had genuinely not expected to meet up with Hansel again. This would complicate matters. He stood behind a series of large crates just outside the hangar, peeking out to check on Hansel every few seconds. He could run, he really could, and get away.

But Hansel had a bag, and his very large gun. Theo knew it was risky, but he had a shot, and if he could take out Hansel he’d have supplies and weapons and be much better-off and safer.

He waited, only a short sprint away, for the right opportunity.

Then, Hansel started going into the hangar, and Theo sprinted after him, tackling the other boy from behind. If he could take him out quickly, it would give him a huge edge.

A little bit of revenge was on his mind, too.

I'll Face Myself (Another Version)
((Theodore Fletcher's story continues from Mass Destruction))

It was funny that he ended up back here after so long, Theo considered as he stared up at the roller coaster in the midday sun.

Announcements had come and gone, and nothing was worthy of much note. More people had killed, more were dead. It wasn't likely to change anytime soon. Kat had killed Steven though, which was admittedly not a big surprise; if he'd followed her and attacked, Theo would bet on Kat over Steven/

Theo had, days ago, stood gazing and reflecting upon the roller coaster above him. He'd wondered if he was going to live, wondered what his next goal was, and tried to determine his course of action. He'd decided that playing along with the game was the safest path, and then he'd apologized.

Waste of his time, that. He'd slain three people now, he wasn't allowed to be forgiven. He sucked, he really did. He sucked at SOTF, he sucked at being a good person, he as just a grade-A failure all around. He deserved to be dead.

He shook his head. What was he doing, pretending to be so miserable. He had no regrets; he wasn't going to allow himself to. It would just get him killed or make him kill himself, and either way it'd all be wasted. There was nothing left but to keep going on, keep trying and fighting and just do whatever it took to win.

He'd come so far. No letting himself die now.

Theo stood in the park for a little while, feeling the warm sun. When he left eventually, he knew his purpose, that much was clear. Fight to the end, no matter what it took.

((Theodore Fletcher's story concludes in Fill Your Hand, You Son of a Bitch))

Mass Destruction
As Theo wrestled with Kammy over the gun, his mind conjured up an image of an octopus and a sperm whale fighting; he was the octopus, gangly and grasping, and Kammy was the whale, larger and more stable. He immediately realized that Kammy was not an easy target; he should've known better, she had killed 2 people, she wasn't like anyone he'd fought before.

He'd never been in a fair fight.

Theo was suddenly assaulted by Bianca, who appeared at random to try and get between the two, yelling to stop. Theo paused to look at her, and suddenly Kammy's shoe slammed down on his toes. "Ow, Jesus!" He pulled his foot out from hers, and spotted an opportunity.

Grapping the gun with a darting hand, Theo found the trigger. A series of shots went off, deafening. His arm was jerked roughly by the recoil, and he released his grip on the handgun. He didn't see where they went, but hopefully that would be sufficient distraction.

He pulled away from Kammy and made for the door, fleeing again.

((Theodore Fletcher's story continues in I'll Face Myself (Another Version)))

My most successful ranked games were as Caitlyn. 3-0 in Cait games, 0-2 in non-Cait games.

New General SOTF Discussion Thread
Apologies if this is frowned upon, I didn't intend to violate rules/common courtesy.

For the record I don't mind if you take the Tower because I was doing a oneshot there anyway so we can both have what we want. :).

Just so you guys know due to my inability to control my temper when playing league my family has banned me from playing it until further notice.

So I won't be playing it with you guys for at least a week.

Mass Destruction
Theo was freaking out hard.

He had only a moment left before Kam unveiled him, revealed his identity and possibly killed him.

He needed to figure out what to do. He couldn't let Kammy take action first, he needed initiative or she'd take him out with no chance for reaction. He could run, but there was only one way out of the building, so he'd need to get lucky to get out alive.

So what could he do? Talking his way out would be pretty difficult, given he wasn't exactly super good at lying. He was lucky to make it this far, and there was a good chance Kammy knew exactly who he was and wasn't about to buy anything he could throw at her.

What else? He could fight, go right at that gun and get control over it as quickly as possible, hopefully fight his way out. It might mean he had to kill Bianca or Kammy, though, but in the split second he made his decision, he had to ignore the dread the thought brought bubbling up yet again.

He charged Kammy, arms outstretched for her gun.