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Oh right. Kimiko had the whole mute thing. That made things weird.

More problematic than Blair's minor social faux pas was the followup hand gestures between the other two. Blair hadn't the slightest knowledge of any form of sign language, unless you counted thumbs-up, flipping someone off or whatever. There was no indication to tell Blair what was being discussed.

Glancing from Jae's movements to Kimiko's, Blair felt a familiar anxiety bubble up, ironically a familiar anxiety about unfamiliarity. She was in a situation she couldn't try to analyze, and it was both scary and frustrating. The best she could do was sit there and watch for trouble. The two seemed more shaken than anything, after all, and with Jae's injuries Blair hoped Kimiko would be more worried about him than her.

Since running off here might get her shot, she'd just play nice and watch for the slightest notion of an attack to know if she'd have to bolt. Biting her lower lip, Blair stayed put and waited. Whether she was waiting for an all-clear or a warning sign was as yet unclear. She tried to glance backwards towards the hallway, trying to work on an escape route if she sensed ill intent, but couldn't take her eyes off of Kimiko and, more importantly, Kimiko's rifle. A sudden, absurd thought crossed her mind; if only she had chameleon eyes, which if she recalled had independent eye movement.

She didn't smile, but the silly idea lifted her spirit. For the moment.

Of course her slow and cautious decision-making pause would end up screwing Blair over worse than making a reckless snap decision. Of course.

So focused on identifying any signs of life in the room before her, she'd completely failed to notice the sounds of an approaching person until he tackled her to the ground. Blair shrieked in alarm, her finger pulling the machine pistol's trigger to unleash a burst of bullets more out of reflex than anything. A moment later and she was down on the ground, slightly disoriented but thankfully mostly unhurt.

Unfortunately, she was still pinned to the ground by someone much taller and heavier than she was, so as soon as Blair had her wits about her it became apparent that she was stuck. The machine pistol was still in her grasp, and it was the other arm that was pinned under her, but the angle made it impossible to point it at anything but the doorframe.

A moment of panic gripped her. If she couldn't get up or shoot them or fight back, how was she going to get away? If this asshole was trying to kill her, she might be fucked. Shit, shit, shit-

Oh, wait. He wasn't strangling her or anything. After a moment, he rolled off of her, even. Blair bounced up to her knees, gasping for air in between raspy coughs. God, what a load of shit. If someone was going to kill her with suffocation then she would have to kick God's ass, or whoever it was that decided ironic death was appropriate for this hellhole.

As Blair was about to stand up, though, the sound of something similar to a gun cocking brought Blair's attention to Kimiko. Who had killed like 6 people by now, including another killer, Nancy. She had a big gun aimed in the general direction of Blair.

Her eyes widened. Shit. Blair's first instinct was to put her hands up like she was being arrested, but luckily she didn't do that because that was a fucking stupid idea. You only did that so the cops didn't shoot you, but here there was a good chance Kimiko would shoot her no matter what. Then again, she had had a good opportunity to kill Blair and the dead-looking guy a second ago, so maybe she was holding back for some reason?

Blair stood up, both hands on her own firearm, but pointing it at the ground, finger off the trigger. She wasn't exactly confident that she could win a quick-draw if it came to that, but Kimiko didn't need to know that. Finally able to muster some of her lung capacity to speak, Blair croaked out, "Hey, uh, thought I heard someone in here." She cleared her throat again. Corpse on the ground didn't look shot up, so possibly Kimiko hadn't killed her. How wonderful.

"I can just, like, leave?" Blair glanced between Kimiko and the guy on the ground, who was bloody all over and also alive, possibly by technicality. Min-jae, was that him? Hadn't he killed a bunch of people, too? Jesus, was this a murderer convention or what?

Her eyes returned to Kimiko, trying not to betray any fear.

((Blair Moore continued from Toxic))

The asylum was just as she remembered it, dimly lit, cavernous, creepy, and generally awful. Plus, by now the sickening smell she'd come to connect to corpses wafted through the entire place. Asylum literally referred to a sanctuary or a safe place; the irony in the use of the phrase to describe human rights violations in building form was palpable.

Even in the context of Blair's life, it was farcical. A safe place on this island was about as available as an airplane ride home. There were so many dead people here by now. One of them, of course, was probably Georgia Lee Day. Blair's second victim.

Walking up the stairs back to the doctor's offices, Blair found Georgia Lee's corpse in a different position than expected. Had the announcement described her bleeding out? Maybe. Blair had no idea, but it was either that or someone moved her around postmortem for god-only-knows-what-reasons. People did crazy things. Like murder defenseless classmates!

It was hard for Blair to articulate her feelings, standing over a dead girl's body while biting her lip. She knew, rationally, it was a bad thing to have done. Duh. Shooting people is not okay. But there were other ways she could justify herself. Accident, maybe, but she could also try to blame it on the situation. Sure, she'd overreacted entering the room, but Georgia Lee had been pulling out a weapon. It was a misjudgment, but not an unfounded one.

Overall, the most disturbing thing about the incident wasn't that Blair had murdered someone in a reckless pull of the trigger, but that she was struggling to recall the emotion from that situation. She couldn't find it in her to feel bad. No tears, no sorrow. Not even that much regret. A girl was dead, but in the end, it didn't really matter who killed her, did it? It could just as well have been literally anyone else on the island. Blair was responsible, but was she guilty?

Blair stood there for a long time. Eventually she went back downstairs.


Hindsight 20/20, right?

Staying upstairs was probably safer, since by her logic most of the survivors were probably more inclined to stick to the exits. The therapy rooms off to the right weren't a great place to hide out for that reason, but Blair had honestly not been thinking about her path at the time.

Rounding the corner, though, Blair was jolted out of her musings by the sound of steps in the room. She raised her SMG, which was still in her hand, though honestly it had been so close to her for so long she'd forgotten about it. Saying something about familiarity in violence was probably appropriate here, but she didn't care.

Blair's immediate thought was to turn and book it. Her survival past this point was reliant on her wits. Everyone left with a shot at winning would be showing no mercy. Eliminating the competition.


Blair had the drop on whoever was in there if anyone, as far as she could tell; she wasn't a loud walker, but the damn building was awfully good for loud echoes. Hard to say; if it was an ambush, better to go the other way. But if they were harmless or an off-guard killer, she'd have the advantage. Gambles weren't like her, but contemplating murder wasn't either, as much as she threatened her little sister with it on occasion.

Blair poked her head around the corner, the muzzle of the gun just below her scrutinizing eyes. There was a lot of broken glass, a horrible stench of corpses and a few actual bodies visible from this angle. There was a body right in the middle of the room, and from the look of it, she'd not been dead long. And since Blair had arrived through the only entrance...

From her vantage point, she couldn't quite see if there was anyone in there. Of course, it wasn't impossible that the killer had made an exit well before she'd arrived. Blair wasn't exactly a forensic scientist, the girl could've been dead for minutes or hours and she wouldn't know the difference. There was a good-sized part of her mind saying to leave. That was probably the smart part of her.

Instead, Blair dipped back behind the corner, and tried to keep from breathing loudly without choking herself, a feat easier said than done. Was she going to fight, or what? What did she get out of it? Removal of an enemy, or possibly killing innocent just 'cause. They'd die anyway, a part of her said, but that part was an asshole.

Were they right?

It admittedly took her a couple of moments (or minutes, whatever) to work up the courage to start walking through the tall, unkempt grass and plants. Blair had never been much for gaming, but she spent enough time on the internet to see a Pokemon parallel here. Don't go into the tall grass, wild Pokemon will eat you or something. Wait, weren't they like smart? Fuck, if there were Pokemon on this island, taking off the collars would be easy, and then they could fly home or ride one or something.

Shit, she was losing it or something. It wasn't like her to go on elaborate fantasy tangents. While she was wishing, she might as well wish away this whole goddamn week and a half. Being stuck in Kingman was like paradise compared to here.

Moving briskly through the grass, Blair was wary of any movement, her head cracking like a whip towards anything in her peripheral vision. It was probably hysterical to watch, but it didn't feel funny to Blair. Way back on the beach, the last time she'd seen Noah, she'd rushed a killer on a whim, almost experimenting with the value of her own life. As she exited the obscured area and returned to more tame soil, she realized how idiotic that had been.

Of course she wanted to live. No sane person was happier dead than alive, right? Blair's lungs contorted and she coughed, feeling phlegm dislodge in her throat. It was a familiar sensation, aching and tense, but it was familiar. In a funny way, the weather here seemed to be less aggravating on her condition than the drier climate in Kingman. What a consolation prize.

The familiarity came with a morose reminder, though. Cystic fibrosis wasn't just going to go away. Winning just delayed death, technically true for anyone but the reprieve was far shorter for her. The nagging, whiny voice in her brain saying that she would squander life compared to any other survivor was starting to piss her off, though. What, was she just gonna shoot herself? Fuck that. She wasn't Caedyn, Alessio, Kimiko or any of the repeat killers who were now themselves dead. She wasn't going to place her own life over other people. The irony in doing so only meant she'd be proving her inferiority.

But Blair wasn't going to give up hope. If she won because everyone else died, great. If somehow she got to ensure a worthy person went home (who that might entail was another matter), also good. But Blair wasn't a quitter. She did a crazy-strenuous sport in defiance of her crippling medical issues. She'd survived a week and a half on a terrorist murder island. She was armed, she had supplies, and she was still going strong, relatively unscathed up until now. She had a shot.

A quick estimation in her head told her about 20 people were left, give or take. Of those twenty, 19 were doomed. Blair might well be one of them. But at this point, playing patty-cake waiting for rescue was inane, naive. Everyone left had to acknowledge that they were close. No doubt that everyone who didn't have strength to survive was gone, or would be soon.

The time for hope was past. Some philosopher said that the night was darkest just before dawn, which was quoted in that Batman movie. That time was right now. The darkest hour was upon them, a cliched thought she'd never include in a poem at home. But it was true. It was not going to get much worse. As Blair began to begrudgingly make her way towards the asylum standing visible despite the distance, all the pep talk and contemplation brought her to one inevitable conclusion.

Kill or be killed, right? She had killed, and hadn't been killed yet. All that she would need to survive was at her disposal. Blair had to fight on. She had found resolve, a bitter and merciless resolve born 10 days ago when she saw a girl fall off a bridge to her death and threw up all over herself. It was a long time coming, but she knew her purpose now.

Blair Moore was not going to go down without a hell of a fight.

((Blair Moore continued in Takasago))

Suggestion: increasing the character cap per handler
I like Toben's suggestion for the reasons he outlines. I also think having four gives handlers more individual security; if you choose to run a fourth, it means that it's less risky to hero, and easier to hold your hero for later. Running fewer characters in theory protects you, but in V5, three of the first four rolls hit 1-character handlers and knocked them out (though admittedly one was already inactive), and in V6 had roughly the same results.

I also agree with Yugi that raising the cap is inferior to getting new people, but I think doing that is a much more complicated and challenging solution. Internet forum RPs are less popular than in the past, and adoption has a lot of limits. If the intent there is to enable more people to play, then you'd need to hand characters who were already in play off to them, so there's still a cap. If you give them characters before the game starts, then they could still play with their own kids if they so chose.

Basically I think we should keep an eye on the potential size of V7, but I definitely think it should be considered if it looks to be much smaller than V6 (say, under 100).

It's like the lunchroom on the internet
Maybe! Leah might find his conformist desire tiresome, but she'd probably tolerate him as someone to talk science with.

It's like the lunchroom on the internet
Hmm, not actually sure. I didn't really think Leah was a cartoon person. She might find your characters in general to range from no opinion to disdain.

((Blair Moore continued from Origin of Symmetry))

The constant companionship of death really puts things on their head, y'know? Like how going from yesterday morning until this afternoon without seeing anyone would normally be frustrating and depressing. Blair was hardly asocial, and she liked basic human interaction. At home, being sick for days would result in her relative isolation in her room, resigning her to chatrooms and Tumblr for her social life.

Now of course, being alone was a boon. She'd spent enough time musing about how isolation was a safer state here. If you never ran into anyone, you would probably be fine. So walking the long way around the island and ending up in the gardens again without saying anything to anyone was kind of nice from that perspective. She felt a little more at ease, honestly, though the ever-present paranoia that had developed led her to nervously bounce her gaze between any rustling foliage or oddly-shaped shadow.

She'd found herself hanging out on the side of the garden opposite of the chapel from Rene's body. Pragmatically, it meant she didn't have to put up with the decay, though in a sick and twisted sense some scientific curiosity might at one point have led her to scrutinize the corpse. But Rene had been her friend and companion, someone she'd grown fond of. Blair had killed her, at Rene's request but still, at the very least she could give her remains some privacy.

Of course, the drawback of the untamed colors of the gardens was that Blair was now all too aware that very large poisonous spiders could be found within, along with god knows what else. She'd been tempted to spend the night in the chapel, but the occasional noises from within made her nervous about its security. Sleeping under the willow tree with her own full back and the reluctantly-procured empty satchel from Rene ended up the most reassuring arrangement. At least, she hadn't died.

In a strange recursion, Johnny McKay was dead, which normally wouldn't have elicited great response from Blair except she'd seen him here when Rene died. She didn't think they'd even spoken, but it was still unsettling in that vague, coincidental way. It just lined up neatly, and that wasn't right.

The willow tree was admittedly lovely, and Blair had managed to find a comfortable sleeping position. She'd left the SMG from Scout next to her, within arm's reach but not directly under her. After waking up, Blair found herself extremely sore, alleviated slightly by some rigorous stretching. She rubbed her eyes and started eating some of her remaining rations. She had enough for two more days, but probably no more. She hadn't been dealing with awful hunger or anything, but by now she was pretty sure she'd lost some weight. Which might've been nice if she wasn't already stupidly scrawny. 5'4" and like, less than 100 pounds? Not good.

Blair finished up the food bar and started returning the majority of her dwindling supplies into her bag. She left the SMG, of course, and forced a couple of clips into her pocket. That was a small comfort at least; she had baggier clothing from not eating enough for over a week. Hmm, that was probably why the prizes included food.

As she was about to move, she spotted movement nearby. Startled, Blair raised the gun, but paused when she lost track of it. Had she been seeing things? God, as if there wasn't enough shit to deal with-oh shit!

The giant fucking spider had started darting towards her, and Blair pulled the trigger of the MAC-10. The recoil caught her off-guard, but luckily(?) she'd forgotten to put it on safety, so one moment and four bullets later there was no spider. Blair sighed and adjusted her shoulder strap.

Ugh. Time to go. Fucking murder bugs. 'Cause she needed the wildlife here to try to fuck her up too.

New General SOTF Discussion Thread
Man looking at the island forum is so weird because almost every area is open because we have so few kids left.

It's like the lunchroom on the internet
So here's my current concept so far, since she's still very in-progress this is of course subject to change.


V7 Gamer DIscord Server
I think I can fit Leah in here to hang out with anyone in the MOBA crowd.

I'll draw your character when I'm bored
Not gonna make a request because your queue is clearly monstrous, but I did want to jump on the praise bandwagon.

I love how simple your shading is while still conveying important contours, and I am super jealous of how you do lips since those are probably my biggest personal demon from my attempts at art. I think my favorite touch is that you leave the pupils white because in a vacuum it sounds completely silly but here it's shown so naturally and integrated so well that somehow it's perfectly normal and I didn't notice it until just now.

Great stuff, art here is very much appreciated!

Origin of Symmetry
Hmm, a conundrum.

As much as Blair wanted to trust Alba, skater girls unite and all that jazz, she was really uncomfortable with Fiyori. She'd basically admitted to being dangerous and shooting Olivia (right, that was her name), and Blair wasn't sure what kind of praise she'd earned. Killing Georgia Lee was hardly a good outcome, and the fact that Fiyori had killed one of Georgia's allies only made it more suspicious.

Frankly Alba wasn't helping her case either, the comment on an arrow was awfully specific. There was a story here, and Blair didn't really want to know it.

It was hard, and Blair found herself at a brief loss for words. Human company had proven sporadic ever since Rene at the church, and Blair had spent most of her time since then engaging in brief, awkward encounters during the few times there was anyone else around at all.

The trouble was, everyone is dangerous. Unless you off yourself or die in an accident (and by this point there was no excuse for stupidity) you were mostly safe when alone. The threat was inherent in company; it's not guns but people who kill people (though obviously guns help) so no people meant your likelihood for death was minimal.

As much as she doubted anyone, especially Alba, would be so sleazy about trying to lure someone to their death, Blair didn't want to risk it. She was armed and dangerous herself, and the larger a group, the more attention it attracts, and buildings at this point were appealing. Even when it wasn't cold or wet, landmarks were good places to look for people (to hold hands with or murder or whatever) and if looting was your thing then corpses were easier to find indoors. The radio tower would not be isolated forever, and Blair would rather not be stuck in a building when someone walks in with guns blazing.

"Hmm, I'm gonna pass." She smiled sheepishly and started walking off. "No offense, but I'd rather lay low, and people are gonna go to the buildings, right? Better to keep on the move, I think."

Turning back as she walked, Blair called out, "Good luck, I guess."

((Blair Moore continued in Toxic))

help, I can't decide which concept to kick out
Ditto. If you really like the name you could attach it to another character with a more developed identity.

Another option might be to try to combine concepts with less depth, filling out the gaps by meshing them.

V6 Top Ten
Since V4 and V5 had one, I figure we might as well set this up for V6!

Rate your top 10 V6 kids, in no particular order unless you choose to do so. Limiting yourself to one character per handler is preferred, but not strictly mandatory. If you like, you can also add an 'honorary 11' by describing your favorite character that you wrote in V6.

Also stealing from Turtle's stealing from Murderweasel:

You can rank your list or not. I don't really care either way. What I'd like to really emphasize, though, is that this is not a place to trash on other handlers for their favs. Everyone's got different tastes, and that's fine. That said, it's totally cool to dislike characters. It's cool to talk about disliking them, too. There's nothing wrong with even politely discussing stuff that didn't do it for you in the General Discussion Thread. This thread, however, is just for lists and talking about stuff you like. Oh, and maybe for suggestions on other cool characters for people to read, based on ones they've enjoyed. That's cool, too. :)

A final thing: please, please don't feel bad if your character is not mentioned. SOTF has had [[editor's note; lots]] characters over the course of its time (counting pregame V5 as of this second, and NOT counting non-V1 terrorists and the like, who ARE okay choices, as in the original thread). That means that you get to pick your favorite 1.14% of the game. That means the percentage you can choose here is lower than the percentage IQ threshold to join MENSA. It's not a slight or anything if you're not named.

Have at!