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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
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[G045 - Ema Ryan] - Start

Ema Ryan. Physics-nerd, girl-gamer, archetypical geek and surprisingly lacking in common sense and spatial awareness. And in spite of all of these things, she could still be considered really rather intelligent and sharp. So that's why, as she came to - for the second time in quick succession - it didn't take her long to flit from "Okay where the hell am I!?" through "Wait, is this wood?" and on to the inevitable conclusion "Oh God, that auditorium was real."

Wishful thinking. That's what it had come down to at the time, as she'd sat there, drowsy from the considerable dose of sedative she'd inhaled, clearly measured for the largest person on the bus and not her puny frame, she'd not tried to struggle. She simply took in all that was happening with a sort of vague interest, happily assuming she'd fallen asleep on the bus and was experiencing a surprisingly lucid dream. A rather unimaginative dream, at that; the faces of the people she didn't know were covered, and the setting was lifted from that TV show she occasionally watched. All a terrible dream, she'd chosen to believe.

So, lying face-down on the moist wood of an aged and poorly maintained pier was quite a shock, but not really a surprise, given time to mull it over. The bus driver had been in league with that Danya guy, the weird black hat must have been a gasmask like in the big hall, and Ema herself was certainly not at the campground she'd anticipated.

"No time like the present.." Ema muttered to herself, and rose to a kneeling position, then stood, looking about to get an idea of her surroundings. 'If I'm supposed to survive here, better get my bearings..' she reasoned.

The area was quite unspectacular, just an old wooden dock, no buildings in sight, surrounded on one side by water (duh) and the other by swampland, the two bordered by a thin stretch of pale yellow sand. All in all, it looked like the perfect set for a horror movie finale... now that was a discomforting thought.

The only part that really interested Ema - causing her heart to quicken with hope for a few seconds - was the sailboat moored at the far end of her pier. But alas, even to layman's eyes, it was clear to see that the vessel wasn't even close to sailable, what with all the seawater weighing it down, and the reef piercing it's hull in a few places.

Eventually, the girl's eyes fell upon a small duffle bag, that had evaded her notice for the first few seconds by virtue of being small, on the floor, a fairly similar colour to the woodwork, and of course, Ema's own weak observation skills - besides, she was looking at the environment, not for stuff... that was her excuse and she was sticking to it.

The little of Survival of the Fittest that Ema had seen quickly told her that this bag was her "daypack", filled with some limited rations, first aid equipment and a random weapon of some kind. "Now," she caught herself hoping, unzipping the bag and rummaging through the essentials "As long as there's some kinda rifle or pistol in there that I can handle...", that wishful train of thought was quickly cut short as she finally closed her hand around the one out-of-place item within. Her response could likely be heard for quite some distance: "Okay, what the fuck am I meant to do with this!?". Yup, she'd been assigned a joke weapon, a useless piece of junk she couldn't even use for a non-combat purpose, a bit of Harry Potter merchandise - a replica time-turner, the sort of thing that can't even be used properly as an hourglass.

With the grim revelation "I am so bloody dead." ringing inside her mind, Ema wandered along to the very end of the pier, sat down with her legs dangling over the edge, and tried to think of some kind of plan, some possible way of surviving an island of desperate teenagers, all better armed and most more fit than she. "This," she said aloud, but under her breath, "Is going to take a fucking miracle."
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.

Riley Moon appreciates that Action Needs an Audience, but it's hard not to watch. Hair Status: Bubblegum Pink
Parallel with: The Heavy Weapons Guy

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