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I'm covered in beads!
You know what?
Screw it.
The old Gen 1 Pikachu, sprite style please.

((Post order skipped with permission from Decoy73))

Will raised the gun for another shot, before pulling his arms back in to protect his body. The kid came at him with a flurry of punches, and he backed off, although he was a fraction too slow in putting up a defense, getting an elbow to the gut in the tussle. Winded, he let his arms and shoulders take the brunt of the blow. The gun was still in his hand, although he supposed holding a gun by it's steaming hot barrel wasn't exactly the best situation, because it hurt.

He was getting sick of the pummelling though. He lashed out with his leg, aiming it at the kid's knee. Without waiting to feel the connect, he swung the butt of the revolver at his head, dropping his guard and letting a fist smash into his jaw.

"Fuck you kid."
"Fuck you so hard."

Until all our yesterdays are lighted fools...
Water. The water was coming in. And fast too. The bottom of her trainers were already being splashed by waves, and the boat that she'd sat on previously would probably be floating in a few. Well, if it was waterproof. She urgently tugged at the hands of the two girls, and whispered loudly "the water is coming in and we're gonna be flooded if we wait around, so let's go!"

She glanced at the others inside the cove. "And you might wanna get out of here as well. The tide's coming in fast, and drowning is my worst nightmare, although I can't speak about you."

Waking up in a strange place isn't so unusual for some...
((Will McKinley continued in AAAAAAAAAGGHH!))

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

He guessed Solomon had forgotten one pairing. A time to forgive, and a time to seek revenge. And this was most certainly a time for revenge. Or perhaps this would fall under vengeance. It really didn't matter.

He looked down at Rea, who had fallen with a slight smile on her face. There was a crumbling sound, and he whirled around just in time to see a mountain of pallets rain down of him. He brought his jacket up and over his head, a grim smile set on his face, and pulled the hammer back once more. He had five shots left in the cylinder, and he could see flashes of shirt and skin across from him.
He squeezed the trigger hard. Four in the cylinder.
Three left.

"She's barley cold and you're already desecrating her body? Bastard!" His voice was heavy, his accent coming through strongly as he continued. "Just so you know, you're not leaving this warehouse alive. If you do, I chase you down, and I don't stop until you're bleeding out."

He slipped three bullets out of his pocket, dropping his makeshift-head protection, and arranged them ready to load. "And you better pray that my bullets do kill you, because otherwise..."

Two shots left.

Will heard the scream.

((Will McKinley continued from Waking up in a strange place isn't so unusual for some...))

Will ran into the room, his hands fumbling the revolver out from his pocket.

Will saw a machete go into Rea's back.

Will stumbled to a halt, eyes wide, lungs heaving, heart pounding.

He watched as the steel parted clothing and skin, juddering as it hit the spine, sending vibrations through the attacker's arm.

His gun hand came up almost automatically, the hammer back before he had even aimed. With a shaking hand, he pulled the trigger, not caring for aim or the noise, just caring that whoever had taken Rea would die with her, except he wouldn't get the luxury of being buried.

No, thought Will, his face set in stone. He would kill him, and he would leave his bastard body to whatever scavengers dared live on this godforsaken island, because he had just killed Rea, and ohmygod why had it been so early?

The gunpowder billowed outwards from the end of the gun, and the tear from his face fell down, each mattering as little to him in that moment as anything else.

Because Rea was going to die.

SOTF Halloween Movie Night
Sounds like a bit of a laugh. Hocus Pocus is a brilliantly stupid movie, but honestly, all of these are cool.

A Lazy Saturday
Will raised an eyebrow at the speed that Ben chugged the eater."Jeez you must've been thirsty dude. You got one of those coaches who makes sure you drink insane amounts of water or something? damn!"

"If you don't want to damage the stand, there's a little catch at the top of it. Flick that to the left and fold the legs together and then upwards. Flip the process around to get it back out so it's all braced and steady." Hopefully that was what he was confused about, because otherwise he would look a bit dumb.

He shifted his cap a little, pulling out a strand of hair that had somehow been caught in between the adjustible clips. "Yeah, she's doing well. I dunno, but she might be feeling a bit under presure right now, honestly. She tell you what happened after the Sadie Hawkins?"

A Lazy Saturday
He pushed the safety off, and looked up at Ben's raised thumb. He breathed deep, and fired, sending one of the cans sprawling downwards, a new hole in the tin smoking. The bolt flicked up then back by expert fingers, sending the spent cartridge flying onto the desert.

He breathed deep again, and squeezed the trigger once more, sending a cacophony of noise out for the second time. Now that the two cans were on the ground, he knelt and unloaded the gun, before emptying the last bullet out of the chamber.

He picked out a bottle of water from his rucksack, and took a swig, making sure his lips didn't touch the rim of the bottle, before handing it over to Ben, the unloaded gun still pointing down the range, propped up by the extended bipod that he had clipped on ages ago.

He pulled the two sound mufflers out of his ears, and indicated for Ben to do the same so that he wouldn't have to shout. "Alright Ben, your turn. Take it slow, remember what I told you about gun safety, and ask me if you get confused about anything."

Survival Strategy
"THIS IS PEER PRESSURE!" She jokingly shouted, before looking at the thing. "If it creaks once, I'm out Caleb. Not risking it."

She got up slowly, banging her hands together to get the creeping numbness that had been crawling in out of them. The chopper seemingly loomed in front of her as she approached, and she peered around. The rope was the closest, but there was what looked like an emergency medical blanket very close as well.

There was a thermos flask that had rolled sideways against one of the seat rails, and...
There was another medical kit. If she could reach it, the two would be in a much better position... Or not, as she realised that it was open, and she was actually seeing the inside of the door, enpty. Damn. Would have been useful if it had contained gear, as this looked like some kind of medvac helicopter, so it probably had had a lot more potent stuff than what they had.

"Caleb, your skinny ass better be ready to grab any stuff."
"Or me..."

Survival Strategy
She looked at the heliocopter, then Caleb. Caleb, then helicopter. She took a deep breath, then expressed herself in fhe simplest and clearest way she could:

"Are you titsfuckingly insane?!?!"

"That thing looks like it's a stiff breeze away from being a prop in a Micheal Bay film! And besides, whilst I appreciate you calling me skinny, i'm still one-ten. No way that flimsy-ass balancing act is gonna hold an extra fifty kilos of moving teenager without toppling into the sea."

Speak of the devil, the helicopter creaked and groaned as a gust of sea air hit it. "No way potential dying by falling off a goddamn cliff is worth a singe fag mate." A seagull cawed above them, and she saw a flock pulling together over the water, sprialling around and calling out excitedly.

If i'm not back again this time tomorrow...
He pushed open the door and looked inside, before realising that he would have to turn the light on. Functionally, it seemed like little had changed since he had last been in her room. The shelves, the desk and the bed were all the same, and even little things like her desk lamp and lampshade were untouched since he had last set eyes on it.

The similaritires stopped there. Where once the room had been coloured an almost red shade of pink, now it was largley a dark blue colour, and the curtains matched. He had known of the paint, even offered to help, but she had been stubborn. On the carpet, he could see a few drips of blue, but otherwise it looked like an almost professonal job.

The walls were covered in posters and paintings. A calendar hung on the door to her ensuite, and upon closer inspection there were notes scribbled in fast handwriting in nearly every box, some of them with big red 'X's of sharpie plastered over them. Her desk was littered with pictures of different foods and recipies, including one with a note saying "d-c not done, then go ahead with prac" scrawled across the top. Next to it was her laptop, the screen still open.

He gently closed it and gave the room a final look, before heading back into the bathroom. The warer was reaching a little high, so he turned it off with a gentle squeaking sound and headed downstairs, knowing that the water would be unbearably hot for more than a little while.

In the dining room, on top of the cd rack that had lain unused for so long, was a packet of cigarettes. Maria had tried to keep her less-than-subtle drug use hidden from him, but she forgot he had been a teenager too, and she had come home reeking of pot one two many times for it to be purley other people. It was still less harmful than the ciggarettes though.

Although, he supposed, it might be that pot was the ciggarettes of the new generation. Back when he had been younger, your doctor would prescribe your medicine with a little white cylinder dangling from his lips. Nowadays, that was the time to question his sanity. Still, he lit one up anyway. His lungs were already destroyed, not like he could do any more damage to cancer.

He chuckled at the thought of killing lung cancer by smoking. Companies could make a mint "we may give you cancer, but we kill it off too!" Would be healthier than a lot of drugs anyway.

The sun, he noticed, had almost set. It was a good time he thought. A very good time. His wife had been pronounced dead at dawn, the news of his daughter had reached him at midday. Now, he would round it all off, nice and evenly. The cigarette dangled down from his fingers as he tapped the last of the ash away, and he gazed out onto the stars, smoke curling out from his mouth.

Then he dropped it outside and returned to the kitchen. A small knife, he thought. Nothing like a big deboner or something along the lines if that. There was a small blade. Global Knives, made entirnely from stainless steel. It was the smallest knife of her first ever set, and it had not a single notch or chip in the blade.

Which was why when he acended the stairs and began to undress, he knew that it would serve him perfectly well.

Waking up in a strange place isn't so unusual for some...
((Post order skiipped with permission from shotgunkid))

He heard a voice behind him and whirled around, nearly sticking a revolver in Rea's face. "Jesus, you scsred the crap out of me Rea!" He turned to face her fully, turninghis back on Wade for a second. He breathed in, and whispered in her ear "Go and get out of this little bit. I'll meet you by the door."

He turned back around towards Wade and uncocked his revolver, before sticking it in his pocket. "Wade? Good luck, alright? Hope you don't die too fast." He hoped nobody would die, but he didn't think for a moment they would escape unscathed. Still, a boy could dream, and this wasn't exactly thr worst dream in the world.

Survival Strategy
"Ok, yeah, you got me. Both of thise were kids I knew back in England. Still, betcha there's some people who wouldn't mind being your friend Caleb. I mean, despite what you think, generally people do have some friends. Just a few."

"Why do you want the sword so bad anyway? What did you get for a weapon anyway?" She cast her mind back, and realised that he had been holding something in his hand. It had been rubbery, floppy, and had looked like...

"Well, sucks to be you. At least you're not a crook though!" The joke fell flat. Har har, Nixon mask, not a crook. It was about as hilarious as making an 'I did not have a sexual relationship with that ___' Clinton joke. "That joke was bad and I feel bad. Do tell me what you need helpihg out with though, maybe I won't fuck it up as badly as I did my brief career as a televised comedian."

She stressed the 'televised part,' and her eyes flicked to the camera behind them, as if to remind him that this shit would be going on air sooner or later. She had never really payed any attention to SOTF really, but she did know that it was only aired after it was over, to prevent people locating them early.

Survival Strategy
"Caleb, let me tell you a little story. One day, way back when, I got a set of knives for my birthday. It was my first set of knives, and I used them over and over again, so happy that I was on my first step to becoming a 'real' chef. In fact, I used them so much that I cut through something I really shouldn't have cut through." She held up her hand, showing the missing finger.

"I was lucky, actually, because I sliced straight through the joint that held them together. No messy cuts in the bone. I still have those knives. In fact, I have three more sets of knives now, and all of them are sharp enough to slice a million fingers off. They are my babies, and I don't rely on them to protect myself."

"Now guess what my answer will be. Or don't, because you probably know the answer already." She lent back, head resting against the wall and sighed. "And girls do like you Caleb. You just never... Tried. Anything. Y'know Jessica? One of the girls I hang out with? She liked you. Kid called Sam who thought you were pretty cool. You were just so damn... distant.

"But hey, that's not really my business. I'm sociable, the next person might not be. You're one of the ones who ain't that sociable, and to be judgemental of that would be fucking insane." She put extra emphasis on the swear word, as if to stress that him swearing had really not been needed.

Until all our yesterdays are lighted fools...
There were far too many people in this place for comfort. Irene, Olivia, hell even Alan was Ok, but the rest of them were crowding them in, an that spelt bad news. She heard a bell peal pver the island, and indicated fro the other two to come closer. "You near the bell?" She whispered. "I say that's someone telling us now is the time to get the hell out of dodge!"

As she said this, she grabbed both of the girl's wrists and tugged hard, indicating that she was going to run. "With or without me, ten seconds..." She didn't want to wait around any longer than that. Things were heating up, and she didn't want to be part of said things heating up.

Introduction Thread
Whelp, hey officialy dude!

Survival Strategy
"Ever seen that mythbusters episode? Under 20 feet and the knife wins. Takes too long to draw and flick the saftey off. You're right though. It's not winning, it's surviving. And you shouldn't speak like that. I bet there's someone who would miss you if you didn't come back. Some guy or gal who would never get the chance to ask for a date, some acquaintance who would have loved to know you."

As a matter of fact, she had known about Andy, mostly because Andy had been a dick to one of her friends over and over again.

"You asked about my dad, yeah? He's a water engineer. I've never really been interested in his work, but it is important in the grand scheme of things. My mum was a jeweller. As a matter of fact, this is one of her peices..." She shifted a simple chain put from under her jumper and showed the dangling gem off of the end of it. "Nothing complicated. Blued silver with a steel and sapphire charm. I don't have much else to remember her by."

She sat back and breathed out, her breath starting to fog in the air, and it reminded her of something. "Caleb, you smoke, don't you? Got a spare one?"

Survival Strategy
"Caleb, you're way too pessimistic. I mean, the likely hood is that neither of us will win, but on the other hand..." She drew out her sword from the makeshift belt-loop scabbard, and caught the light on the edge of the blade. "I've sharpened and cared for blades longer than you've jerked off for. All I need is a healthy glob of luck and I've got a chance."

She lay the blade out in front of her and brought her knees towards her chest, pulling her jumper over them as she did so. "Also, no bet. You're right." She didn't appreciate the tone, but under the circumstances, she could let it go. Her voice was a bit more sober, and her face had hardened, and she breathed out hard before continuing.

"I just really hope my Dad doesn't do anything crazy, y'know? He lost my mum when I was born, and now this. He's gotten worse as well. Stays indoors more often, doesn't talk to people. He's getting on a bit, I know that, but it worries me, y'know?"

She paused and glanced up to where Caleb was looking at the map. "What about you? Any Diamonds you want to stay safe back home? I don't really know much about your family to be honest..."

Survival Strategy
((Maria Cuccinotta continued from Among These Hallowed Halls))

That had certainly been an interesting experience, what with her being basially dragged along all the way from the asylum. Now that she was up here, she took a moment to look around, with the sea stretching out in front of them, the air gusting her hair all around her. Off behind them was the hunched shape of the Asylum, and it looked like there were more buildings dotted around the place as well. Really made you wonder what was so special about this island, and more to the point, where they were in the world.

She sat down by the wall and shoved her bag down, taking out her beanie to keep her ears warm. Up here, it was much chillier, so much so that any regret from her wearing warm clothes was instantly demolished in favour of an almost 'I told myself' sensation. She rubbed her arms and glanced up at the guy who had dragged her out here, noticing the little circular camera behind him as she did so.

"Caleb, what's with the panic? I mean, I get why, but it's not even been seven hours... Who's gonna snap in 7 hours?"