"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Brackie
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i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him
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((Craptastic Aston post agogo!))

((Aston Bennett continues from There Is A Light))

It had taken a long time, two or three days of long time, but she'd made her decision.

No matter how much she wanted to, Aston Bennett was not walking out of SOTF a murderer. She knew that, in some sick and twisted fantasy world, that people like her with the weapons, the ability, the attitude, and the confidence, she'd come out on top. But no matter what, she wasn't going to end up a murderer, reduce herself to the level of her classmates, who were dropping like flies. Honestly, the sheer volume of students that had started to play compared to the number of her peers actually gone was staggering.

But even though she had the gun and as such the power to take someone's life into her hands, she couldn't do it.

So what else was there to do on an island such as this but survive?

Annoyingly, only after one visit to the creek and one wash of her hair, it refused to stay spiky anymore. She was frustrated, compiled with the fact that she'd only had 8 hours sleep over the last few days since leaving the tunnels. If she was to snap, it would be hard.

But it wasn't like water was her sworn enemy anymore, so here she was. The beach.

She'd had to avoid the Mansion for now, seeing as it was a Danger Zone. She didn't want her head to be blown off any time soon, so she stopped herself from endulging. The beach was mosly an empty place, with driftwood scattered here and there, and...what seemed to be a pink tent propped up in the middle of the beach.

Tilting her head confused, she started to walk closer, gun out. If that thing happened to be housing a crazed lunatic, she wouldn't be caught unawares.

She got there, almost silently, until her shadow reached inside the tent like a clawed arm. Not sure of the courteous thing to do when entering a tent, she extended her knuckles and rapped gently on one of the support beams that held the tent up. If there was someone in here, they could provide shelter until she decided to move again. If not, she could spend this time getting some sleep. Her eyes did look like they belonged to the undead, after all.

"Hello? Is there anyone in here?" Aston asked openly.
I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Life's a Beach · The Beach: East