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VoltTurtle
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The girl who dreams on the back of a giant space turtle.
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((Isabel Ramirez continued from By the time you hear the next pop, the funk shall be within you))

Isabel Ramirez trudged through the library, the early morning light peeking through the windows, with her sword and halberd, trophies of brutality, in tow.

Isabel stopped moving, holding out her left hand and looking at it, eyelids heavy. She was slightly sleep deprived. After killing Conrad, she wandered around the asylum for a few more hours before electing to curl up in a somewhat spacious cabinet, halberd tucked away in a closet nearby, and falling asleep. Some time passed, and she woke up before crawling out of the cabinet and keeping on the move again in the morning twilight. Isabel had always been a morning person, albeit more out of necessity than anything. She was always quick to fall asleep once her work was done, only to awaken early and enjoy an hour or two to herself before her parents got up to start their day. Those early hours were always the highlight of her days. Day after day, constantly working hard to avoid being punished by her parents. It was tiring.

Isabel balled her hand up into a fist. Her parents couldn't punish her now. She was carving her own destiny. She was in control, no one else. She was going to make it off of the island alive, even if she had to personally kill every single one of her classmates. And in spite of what society always told her, she'd probably enjoy it too. Killing made her feel powerful, made her feel important. It gave her a rush that she hadn't felt before she wound up in this situation. And dragging the kill out? Made all of the feelings even more intense. Isabel tilted her head back, looking at the ceiling as she lowered her arm. Before she got on the island, Isabel never really thought of herself as a sadist. But in hindsight? The signs were always there. She enjoyed making other people feel worse, emotionally. That was the whole point of the bullying. That and the sense of power and control she got out of it. Hurting people physically was just a logical step up. One she never even considered as a possibility before she got here. One that would stop being a possibility once she made it out alive.

Once she made it out alive...

Isabel lowered her head. She didn't actually have a plan on what to do once she made it off the island. She could probably just go back to what she was planning on doing before... but... could she really go back? After what she has already done? People would know what she did. They would treat her like a monster. She would probably never have a normal life again. All the hard work she did for the sake of her parents, for the sake of her future... would be utterly pointless. Isabel's hands shook. Had she made a mistake? Had she chosen the wrong path? Did she really need to let her feelings in the moment take control of her back in that cell with Conrad? Isabel collapsed to the floor, sitting up, looking at her hands, sword resting in her lap. Her future was gone. In a single few minutes, she made sure her future went up in smoke.

...But, maybe all that didn't matter. Maybe she acted on impulse, maybe she made a mistake. But as Isabel sat, she realized that she didn't really care all that much about her future. She cared more about her hard work and effort being for nothing than the thought of having no real future once she got out. Maybe all that really matters is how she felt right now, in this moment. She could deal with the future when she gets there. For right now...

Isabel grabbed her sword out of her lap, before standing up. In for a penny, in for a pound.

All that mattered now was surviving, and maybe getting some excitement while she did it. Isabel began moving again, trudging through the library, keeping her eyes peeled for any potential threats... or potential victims. Isabel looked up, noticing a couch peeking out from behind a bookshelf. It was still very early in the morning, if somebody was in here, they might be sleeping on that couch. Isabel slowed her footsteps, making her way closer and closer to the couch, raising her sword in case anyone was on it. Closer, ever closer still, until...

Isabel turned her head as she got past the bookshelf blocking her view. Over in the chair was Asha. Isabel stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Asha sleeping, slumped over in her chair. Isabel and Asha had ballet classes together. Isabel had arguably known her longer than anyone else. They talked a lot after the classes, waiting to be picked up by their parents. Most of the time Isabel didn't really care too deeply for conversation, but Asha always had a distinct spirit about her. Talking to her was actually enjoyable, unlike nearly everyone else she had ever met in her life. Isabel turned her head downwards, towards the person sleeping on the couch. Dorothy, a friend of Asha. Or, at least, Isabel thought Dorothy and Asha were friends. Thinking about it, she wasn't so sure.

Isabel glanced between the two sleeping girls. Weighing her options. She could just kill them both, stab Dorothy in the throat before making her way over to Asha and gutting her. But at the same time, Isabel liked having Asha around. Her presence was like that of an amusing puppy. She kept Isabel entertained. It would be such a waste to kill her so abruptly, with no fanfare. Even if she was eventually going to die anyway, Asha was more valuable to Isabel alive than dead. Plus, Isabel could probably find some use for her in the meantime.

Isabel turned her focus towards Dorothy. If she wasn't going to kill Asha, she couldn't kill Dorothy. Killing Dorothy and then acting like nothing was wrong would make Asha mad. Even if Isabel personally couldn't care less if someone she knew killed another person she knew, they were in a death game after all, the same couldn't necessarily be said of the other people around her. Isabel quietly sighed, before moving towards the other couch and sitting down.

Today was going to be a long day.
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