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Lilacs and Lolita
Topic Started: Mar 25 2008, 08:43 PM (3,856 Views)
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((Continued from Motion Isn't Meaning))

Had they left the airfield any later, Khrysta was sure they would have spent the entire night wandering through the dense jungle. She finally emerged from the treeline, utterly exhausted from their trek. She had tripped over roots and downed branches, been torn at by limbs and thorns, and she'd managed to skin her knee quite deeply during one fall. The wound was now bleeding through the exterior of her jeans, although it didn't look too serious.

Perhaps the one thing that stood out to Khrysta the most as she exited the treeline and headed into the clearing was the sickening stench that seemed to pour from the area. A few more steps gave away the source of the scent... several bodies littering the ground in all directions. Khrysta wasn't the type of person that was easily shaken, but the scene was enough to make her want to vomit.

From the trails of blood that covered the previously green grass, it looked as though some bodies had either dragged themselves or been dragged over to the edge and thrown off the cliffs. She didn't want to look to confirm her suspicions. Easily the most gruesome body was lying right in front of her, though, and the sight of it caused even someone as dauntless and Khrysta Lawrence to turn her head away.

Rebbecca Bradbury had always been a social outcast at school... one of those girls who tried so hard to be different from everyone else that she wound up falling right into the "goth" stereotype of people that all looked the same. Khrysta knew next to nothing about the girl sans the fact that she sat in front of her during English, but she certainly knew one thing. No one, for any reason whatsoever, deserved the sort of torture she looked to have been put through.

She was lying in the sun, completely exposed and missing one of her arms. Far more grotesquely, said arm looked to have been inserted into her own groin and was readily available for anyone passing by to look at. The fact that some sick pervert probably got off doing something like that to her made Khrysta's blood boil. It didn't matter who she had been or what she had done, nobody deserved that.

"How disgusting..." she uttered quietly, moving over beside Rebbecca's body and dropping her pack to the ground before unzipping it.

She hadn't brought much with her on the trip, but she did happen to have a beach towel she assumed she'd need for the lake. It would serve as good a purpose as any, she supposed. Digging the towel out from the bottom of the bag, she unfolded it and lay it over Rebbecca's exposed body. Whether she was dead or not, there was no need for her to be exposed to any sick freak that wanted a look.

Despite the fact that she seemed cold and detached as she did this, her entire body was shaking, subtly letting on that the condition of Rebbecca's body was affecting her a lot more than she was willing to admit. Satisfied with having covered the body, Khrysta meandered through the area, her eyes thoroughly scanning the region around her. Aside from a squirrel running across the tree branch up ahead, the area was completely devoid of any sort of life.

"We're clear," Khrysta informed the group quietly, "Nobody's here... nobody alive, at least."

Despite the fact that they were standing in what was essentially a graveyard of unburied bodies, there was nowhere else to go for now. The last rays of sunlight were disappearing over the horizon, lighting the ocean and most of the island up in a brilliant orange hue. It would be far too dangerous to venture back out onto the island overnight, so it seemed like they had no choice but to wait things out here.
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((Continued from Motion Isn't Meaning))

Corbin was beginning to hate the jungle and the darkness. The two didn't belong together. The sun had quickly set, and he struggled in the dark through the thick foliage. He would jump at the sounds of animals, and during the journey he stepped on a twig.

The result was a crack, and Corbin jumping backwards hitting his head on a tree limb. Though no damage was done, it resulted in a good laugh and him looking like a fool.

When they reached the cliffs, Corbin expected to see an empty safe place. After the trek they all made it seemed like that's what should await them. Though what he saw was by far the worst thing he saw on the island so far.

Bodies. Lots of bodies laying everywhere. Corbin was now glad it was dark so he didn't have to see them clearly. He watched as Khrysta took out a blanket and covered up a girl who was missing and arm and had been quite brutalized.


Corbin stepped forward and looked at the bodies. How could this happen? Maybe he could understand some students snapping and killing other classmates to survive. He struggled to believe that, but at least that was reasonable. Though someone actually doing this? It was sick. It was wrong. It wasn't right.

Corbin felt a growing anger in him, and wanted nothing more then to fill whoever did this up with lead from his M16. Then he felt sadness. For the dead students, for those who were alive, and those who were killing.

Corbin walked next to Khrysta and stood in silence.
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((Continued from Motion Isn't Meaning))

When I was sixteen years old I started playing music for the first time, that year was also when I realized that kids my age can be violent.

It happened one night at the Roxy theater. Some people had created this church benifit and I was still psyched about performing, help people out and for some reason BTHOW was big enough to be asked to play. Anyways it was BTHOW, a ska band called 3 Beef Burritos, and a good friend of ours band Skully Won't Stop, the problem? My ex-girlfriend was to be singing with the 3 Beef Burritos, now, well I wasn't exactly the most faithful of boyfriends, but the fact that she was with another guy pissed me off.

In short, now I had to make her pay for disrespecting me like that in front of all my friends. So we head backstage and this young Williamsburg Hipster type bitch comes in. She had brown hair, was real pretty and had these huge tits poking out of her v-neck that it couldn't help but be in everybody's face. I told this girl to dance on stage naked and y'know half way out she comes her tits are to-ing and fro-ing and me and the bassist of Skully Won't Stop are sandwiching her and just loving every moment of it.

My ex-girlfriend comes out of no where and tossed aside the bassist of Skully Won't Stop -who was a big guy- like a rag doll, grabbed the girl tossed her off stage and then came after me. Meanwhile, my band is still playing and there is me on the floor, my ex-girlfriend coming at me with fists and feet. Punching and connecting and me? I'm being the douche bag whose trying to block these nutshots all the while not missing a note. People say show security guys are douche bags, but at this point they where ghosts cause my ex kicked my ass until we finished the song and I ran into the night.

My ex was only 5'2", so yeah...the point is anybody can be violent if they put their mind to it.

------
Paul chuckled a bit as he finally reached the Sea Cliff's with Corbin and Khrysta and he noted as he saw the girl get covered up with the blanket, Paul went for a cigarette and then his eye widened as he came to the realization that nearly shook every ounce of his being. This was a first. This hadn't happened at all in his life, or at least for the last seven years of it, it was incredible, horrible, monumentous.

Paul had run out of cigarettes.

He ran his head through his now ridiculously short hair and noted that the only thing similar about him and how he was in Highland Beach was his trademark eyepatch, but that didn’t really matter right now, what mattered was the fact that Paul didn’t have something to light on fire and as he brought out his zippo lighter and lit it a few times to make sure, he freaked out as he noted that he was almost out of lighter fluid.

“This is just fucked up,” Paul managed to say, good thing it was proper for the moment, but the truth of the matter was that Paul was concerned with much more mundane things as he thought back to the fact that not two seconds ago he had smoked what could’ve been his last cigarette and then this brought all sorts of thoughts. The last girl he was with: a few days ago, problem was that in this hustle and bustle he couldn’t remember exactly what day.

Fuckin’ A, I’m craving a smoke and now I’m horny as fuck! This is bad, this is real bad, fuck! I’m also fighting for my life! Fuck bad, this saw bad walking down the street and punched it in the face, this fucking sucks!

“S-s-so.”, Paul stuttered and noted how it sounded a lot unlike himself, “Let’s take a seat, trade stories, talk shit...you know...all that good...Paul stuff.”, he sounded sickeningly weak at that and noted he was about to cry.

And now the Smith bravado decides to step in and fight bad’s battles, only to realize this fucking sucks is a full fledged MMA fighter.

"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” - Charlie Murphy


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((Continued from somewhere or other))

If you can get through all of this, Mary McKay? Then you're an absolute superhero. With superhuman abilities and an iron will. Fighting to prevent evildoers from achieving world domination. In fact, you're just like Spiderman!

"...except pregnant..."

Grumbling to herself as she trudged out of the jungle quite a few moments after any of her companions, Mary was unbelievably exhausted. The group of them had walked around virtually all night long, lost in the jungle and trying to find their way to any kind of building. It hadn't helped that she had tried to watch her step almost every single moment in the jungle, and in doing so had become absolutely exhausted. She was drenched with sweat, and was more tired than she'd been in quite some time. Sauntering over towards the group, she waddled over and plopped herself down on a flat rock that was shaped somewhat like a stool, enough for her legs to reach the ground and be relatively comfortable.

"I'm ...sorry about that. Walking around with a child isn't as easy as it looks! My goodness, I'm so used to taking pregnancy for granted. You'd think that it's just nine months with a baby inside your tummy, but they don't tell you about all the other fun little side effects that go along with it!"

Her exasperation showed through, but the truth was that Mary was just happy to be sitting down. Of course, in her exhaustion, Mary had failed to notice the corpse that Khrysta had covered up with her beach towel, and the bright pattern drew her eyes to the corpse, causing her mouth to quiver a bit and the blood to drain from her face.

That...oh dear lord, I know that girl...I mean, not 'know' know, but...I've had class with her, I've...oh goodness...

Pale, Mary closed her eyes and tried to keep down what little food remained in her stomach. Even with the beach towel, there were some facts that were obvious, and it didn't leave a whole lot to the imagination. Whomever'd done that to her was one sick man, and she hoped to never encounter such a man. Forcing her eyes open again, she shook her head and crossed herself, mumbling a small prayer for good measure. With that, she forced herself to look away and at the next-nearest person, who happened to be Paul Smith.

Paul himself seemed to be having a degree of difficulty with the situation, but it didn't appear to be necessarily because of the corpse. His voice was shaky, and Mary wondered what it was that was bothering him so much. While she didn't think much of Paul based solely upon reputation alone, he was still a human being, and their situation would affect anyone, be you a pregnant teenager, a womanizing high-school rock star, or a football player, a cheerleader, a science nerd...it didn't matter.

There isn't a lot we can do except try and be strong for each other. No matter...no matter how things were back home, we're all people with feelings, and people have to naturally make each other feel better if they can.

Trying somewhat unsuccessfully to distance the corpse from her visual memory, Mary put her arm out and softly patted Paul's elbow. The boy's usual bravado seemed to be failing him at present, and while deep down it was satisfying for Mary to see, she felt bad for the boy, she really did.

"A-are you all right, Paul? This...this has been so hard, but you have to be strong, Paul. You and Corbin, you two have to be those big strong 'manly men' who act like heroes and save the damsels in distress, right? Is-isn't that how it goes? I know this is hard, but...we're all in this together, right?"

As she spoke, she glanced at Khrysta and shot her a glance. The look spoke volumes to Khrysta that Mary obviously still respected Khrysta's place as essentially the de facto leader of their group. But Paul Smith was someone who was especially fond of his own self image. If she could cultivate that, and try and restore that sense of manly bravado that he seemed so fond of, it would make him a stronger ally. The last thing they needed was Paul falling apart on them, as that would make him more of a burden than Mary herself.

I'm trying to pull my weight as best I can, but I feel as though I'm almost carrying two loads, because I can't just look out for myself, now. Goodness me, we all have to stay strong, especially me.

While Mary did hope that her words perked Paul up a bit, in a way, they were more for her own benefit. She was scared, tired, and didn't really know what to think about this whole thing, and in saying what she did out loud, she was almost trying to comfort herself, too. What with a corpse not five feet away, she felt that she was going to need all the comforting that she could get in order to strengthen her mental guards against such gruesome images. Such a thought made way for another query, one that she didn't vocalize, but had been wondering since she'd first happened upon Daniel and Harry fighting each other.

This...this is hell, isn't it?

---
The Future

The Past

Meanwhile...
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It didn't take long before Corbin came along behind her. It was pretty easy to tell that he, too, was quite visibly disturbed by the blood and gore of the surrounding area. Of course, he didn't say anything. Khrysta supposed that was just the way he was... he never seemed to say much. In fact, he almost seemed to rival her on sheer quietness. It was refreshing, in a way.

Paul wasn't too far behind, either.

Even he seemed to be a bit shaken up by the sight that lay before them. At least, that was how it came off. Khrysta was a bit surprised at Paul's shaky and nervous responses, especially considering how easily he had seemed to point the gun and pull the trigger when Adwin had attacked them earlier. A few corpses shouldn't have affected him so much.

Before she found the chance to comment on Paul's rather strange stated, Mary came waddling out from the jungle behind them. When Khrysta turned to face the pregnant girl, she felt a pang of guilt for having all but left her behind back in the jungle. After all, she had taken responsibility for Mary when she'd stopped Dan from killing her.

And when you're responsible for someone, leaving them alone in the jungle with nothing to defend themselves is a bad idea.

I keep forgetting that she can't keep up...

Mary didn't seem to mind too much. In fact, she all but maintained her optimistic demeanor as she waddled into the area. As Mary's eyes drew to the corpse of Rebbecca Bradbury, she grew visibly pale. Khrysta imagined it wasn't a very pleasant sight to someone like Mary, who seemed to live in somewhat of a fantasy world full of unicorns and butterflies.

Mary's attention seemed to turn to Paul next. She, too seemed to notice that the boy was visibly tense, and inquired as to whether or not he was okay. If Khrysta was the kind of person that was inclined to laugh at things, the speech she gave him in some attempt to boost his masculinity would have been laugh-worthy. Of course, it wouldn't have been a good idea.

Damsels in distress, huh?

Khrysta couldn't hide the small smirk that plastered itself across her features. She truly thought the idea funny. She'd always been such an independent person, and she'd always been able to take care of herself. It was hard, nigh on impossible, to pretend that she needed Paul and Corbin to protect her, even if it would preserve their masculinity.

"Well, Paul..." Khrysta muttered after a moment, "We're here. What now?"
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OoC- Revive

Highland Beach, California

Duncan Lloyd didn't really look like much, standing in a slightly slouching fashion as he entered into his two bedroom apartment and lit up only by candles, he was about twenty-something, fresh out of college and most of all looking forward for a wedding happening sometime next winter. This of course was a surprise to mostly all of his friends; why? Why would someone be surprised that such a plain face like Duncan would be getting married? To put it simply, the lithe and tired form before you was the precursor to Paul Smith, in some ways he was a much worse womanizer than Smith. In some ways he was much more academically inclined than Smith, but to Smith? To Paul Smith Duncan Lloyd was only one thing: a mentor.

They had met circa Paul’s Freshman year and Duncan’s senior year, at the time Paul had gained notoriety for messing up a chance to have sex with renowned nymphomaniac, total hottie, and valedictorian Courtney Estevez. It wasn’t really a good reputation to have, but Duncan had seen something in the kid and took him under his wing. Taught him about music. Taught him almost every skill he had -including the ones that got him through the finals at the tournament earlier this year-, Duncan regarded Paul as his little brother and now? Now he was having reactions all too brotherly.

“Babe, stop watching this horrible show...”, spoke a groggy voice as a beautiful girl sauntered out of her room and sat on his lap, she had chestnut brown hair and beautiful blue eyes, a rather impressive rack. Arguably she was the most beautiful girl in Highland Beach. Her name? Her name was Melanie; his pupils ex-girlfriend.

“Paul’s on it.”

Melanie’s eyes widened as she looked at Paul’s now short hair, but trademark eye patch and outfit. She didn’t know why her fiancé had become obsessed with the show in recent days, but it all seemed to make sense now that she thought about it and soon the phone began to ring. Concerned friends from Paul’s graduating class. Concerned friends from the underclass. Concerned friends from every class since Paul’s sophomore year. Girlfriends, music friends, all sorts of friends. They of course all went to sleep, the one who stood up and watched was Duncan Lloyd, arguably Paul’s best friend.

Highland Beach, 2003

Duncan played the piano and all of the girls loved him. They would sit there for hours and watch him play. Duncan had a big old cock, too, and the girls loved that just as well. The times Duncan wasn’t playing one instrument, he was playing the other. He would play the piano all day and screw all night and he got maybe an hour or two of sleep. He came to Paul’s porch one afternoon and took a seat next to Paul.

“You’re looking sort of beat there, man,” Paul said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” said Duncan. “It’s these girls. They’ll kill me one of these days. They just won’t quit, Smith! Every time I think I might get some sleep, here comes another one, pounding at my door. It’s enough to drive me mad.”

“I bet Beethoven never had these problems.”

“Beethoven probably had the clap,” said Duncan

They sat and smoked their cigarettes and talked about women.

“There’s Melissa and Amanda. They’re some real pieces of work, . They don’t get jealous of each other and sometimes one will come over while I’ve still got the other one in the sack! It’s not like Sarah. I think that Sarah would kill me if she ever found another woman over. It’s nothing but trouble, all the time. More trouble than it’s worth, I can tell you that much.”

And Paul said, “Maybe you should just give it up.”

Duncan laughed and clapped Paul on the back.

“I could never give up women for the same reason I could never give up the piano, Smith: I’m just too damn good.”

SOTF Island, Present

Paul simply sighed as he shook his head and finally decided to think of this as level headedness. There was no escape as he reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of wine, it wouldn’t be the first time he had a bottle of wine to himself, but it certainly may be the last. He had another bottle of Guinness in there, but he figured soon enough he would lose alcohol and once again another crutch to carry him through the game, he couldn’t help but shake his head at how weak he had become. He wondered how Duncan would be playing the game?

No he didn’t, there was no need to ponder that, Duncan was just too damn good.

He stared at Mary as she gave this proclamation of bravado that was probably not even there, she didn’t really have a full concept of facades, but Paul could read her pretty well through his one eye. Despite how simple minded it was, well it was an attempt to make him feel better and he could see the value in that. It wasn’t as if that escaped him.

Right now though, what would be most helpful would be a BJ...no, Khrysta and Mary at the same time? Corbin could watch, fuck it wouldn’t be that big of a deal...I just...want to fuck something, yeah that’s the only way to put it. I don’t want to have sex. Too clinical. Make love. Too emotional. Fuck? Yeah, fucking was great.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry too much about me,” he shook his head, “It’s kind’ve whatever and whatnot, but I’ve pretty much made it through this game by smoking...a few seconds a go I smoked what could be my last one, a bit of a shock, y’know?”, he shook his head, “Well I bet Danya has a bit more success than the nicotine pack when it comes to me not picking up another pack.”

He then stared at Khrysta who directed a question towards him as if he was the leader or something or another, but Paul couldn’t help but kindly chuckle in the inside. He a leader? It just didn’t make sense. He was also pretty sure a few teachers where laughing, maybe his friends where rooting him on, it didn’t really make sense. His dad? Who knew what he was doing, perhaps he was working and didn’t even know Paul was kidnapped yet. These things where plaguing his mind a lot more than Adwin’s death, but he decided that if he where the ones making the decisions, then it might be a good thing, at least for him.

He slipped off his jacket to reveal a small black shirt, muscles where pretty apparent and it was obvious just by looking at him Paul was what in could be described as the peak of physical shape for a young man. His biceps where very defined and the tightness of the black shirt made it all very apparent, he absorbed the coolness of the air for a brief moment before sitting down and sipping the bottle of wine a bit, the MPK right next to him. He imagined the sight looked pretty hillbillyish, drinking wine from the bottle, high powered weapons, and using a big leather jacket as a mat.

“Now, my dear Khrysta,” he smirked, “We indulge ourselves in a few cheap moments of rest.”

"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” - Charlie Murphy


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Rest.

That was something that Paul said that Corbin agreed with. Corbin wondered how Mary was feeling.

He hated enough being here on this island, having to worry about yourself and your friends, but having to worry about your unborn child? That had to be horrible. Corbin looked at Khrysta and wondered what she was thinking.

Here they were. The womanizer, the pregnant girl, the radio DJ, and a rather cold girl. All together on a cliff surrounded by dead bodies, yet they were all linked by the fact that at this moment they were all they had. They were all linked by the fact that they were forced to play this game. That they were forced to be here. Corbin wondered what was after here. He wondered how it would end.

Would they be rescued? Would he die here?

Though this wasn't an end.

This was rest.

So Corbin sat next to Paul, and looked at him and asked, "Mind if I have a sip?"

Corbin really wasn't the drinking type, but right now, he felt it was as good as any other time to start. He needed something anyways to calm his nerves.

Corbin looked up at Khrysta and smiled at her.

He wasn't sure why he smiled at her. He just did though. Probably because they were all in this together.

The pregnant girl, the womanizer, the DJ, and the girl with no emotions.
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Already sitting down, Mary shook her head in gentle admonishment of Paul's vice. Cigarettes were something she'd never cared for. They made you smell bad, they gave you cancer, and if you kissed a boy who'd been smoking, it tasted like you were kissing an ashtray. One of her ex-boyfriends had been like that (granted, she hadn't had too many, and he'd only lasted about a week) and he'd tasted like charcol and ash.

I've never kissed the walking personification of a campfire before, but Terry came pretty close to it. That relationship was doomed as quickly as it started, though. He was a bad...a bad seed, to say the least.

Shaking away the memories of her ex, Mary turned herself back to the situation at hand. Her ex wasn't here - he was in jail for some drug-trafficking charge, and she was here in what was essentially worse. In prison, Terry would be able to continue being the bad-ass that he thought he was for a good five-to-ten, after which he'd be out and free to do whatever he damn well pleased. Mary? She had - probably at most, five-to-ten more DAYS to live.

That fact notwithstanding, Mary shoved it all back down inside and turned her attention to the people around her. Everyone seemed exhausted, deep in thought, or just plain defeated by the situation at hand. Even the cocky Paul Smith wasn't being nearly as cocky or arrogant as she'd previously found him to be. When he'd somehow managed to conjure up a bottle of wine, which Corbin and himself began to start to indulge in, Mary smirked and wondered just how much wine it'd really take to forget about their problems.

"It's probably better that you don't smoke, Paul. Running away from people who feel that they would like to kill you isn't that easy when you're huffing and puffing. Besides, you can't let the pregnant girl outrun the strong, muscular rock and roller, right?"

Mary smiled a sweet yet joking smile at Paul, and then closed her eyes and sighed. Things were quiet for now, but that probably wouldn't last. Of course, while they were, the group needed to take full advantage of their situation...

"We really need to start thinking about how we're going to get out of here. It isn't as easy as just taking off these collars and heading for the hills. We don't even know where we are, for goodness sakes! I think that we should start trying to make some sort of plan, something to use in case we actually get the chance to try some sort of a daring escape. So, with that in mind...does anyone have any bright ideas?"

Mary cautiously threw the idea forward. Sure, it'd been something they'd touched on before, but nothing was really going on and everyone seemed to be enjoying the downtime. If they were going to sit, she figured they may as well try and think of something at the same time.
---
The Future

The Past

Meanwhile...
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Khrysta was almost surprised when Paul suggested that they should rest. In all actuality, when she'd asked him what he thought they should do next, she had expected some crude comment about a group orgy or something more characteristic of Paul Smith. "Rest" wasn't the word that she'd expected to come out of his mouth. Perhaps he had a bit more maturity than she'd originally given him credit for... not by much, for sure, but it was a start.

The thought immediately vanished from her mind as Paul pulled out a bottle of wine he had apparently smuggled into his bag for the grad trip and began sipping it. Corbin immediately joined in, and she couldn't help but shake her head slightly. Here they were, on the middle of some island in the middle of nowhere, being attacked by their fellow classmates... and the boys? They were drinking.

Then again, given the situation, almost anyone would probably be driven to drink. She couldn't help but imagine them getting attacked and the boys, obviously inebriated, trying to defend them. Khrysta couldn't help but hope that both boys had more sense than to do something so foolish. Corbin, she had faith in. Paul... well, only time would tell, she supposed.

As she watched the two boys, Corbin looked up and shot her a smile. She forced a faint smile back in some vain attempt to be nice, though it felt foreign and strange to her. Considering the fact that they were in the middle of a killing game, there didn't seem to be time for things like smiling and feeling happy. After all, they were sitting in what was essentially a graveyard of unburied corpses.

Paul finally opened up to Mary's questioning, expressing the fact that he'd smoked his last cigarette sometime earlier that day. That lead to some chastisement from Mary concerning his smoking, and the pregnant girl attempted to crack a joke with Paul about how if he kept up that nasty habit, she'd wind up leaving him in the dust. At least Mary remained optimistic, Khrysta supposed. It was sort of refreshing to see someone keep such a positive attitude considering the circumstances they were currently in.

Meanwhile, Khrysta's own thoughts moved somewhere else entirely... somewhere they'd only touched on since she first woke up on the island.

Mom... Dad...

She'd been so focused on survival throughout the past few days that she'd barely thought about her parents at all. She wondered if they were okay... if they were at home watching, wishing she'd come home. She wondered about Shadow and Midnight, and how they were reacting to her having not been home for several days. Her eyes closed momentarily as she thought about the family back home waiting for her, and she couldn't help but desperately want to see them.

And then there was...

Cody...

He was two years older than her... a sophomore at the local college with aspirations to be something big one day. They say that opposites attract, and it was definitely true in this case. Cody was a fun-loving, happy-go-lucky kind of guy who just seemed to slide through life and have things fall into his lap. Khrysta wasn't entirely sure what she saw in him, but for some reason, he seemed to know her better in the short time they'd been seeing one another than anyone else ever could.

She frowned slightly as the thought ran through her mind, and she wondered faintly if he, too, was watching.

Mary spoke up suddenly, snapping Khrysta out of the thoughts she'd lost herself in. Mary was right, of course. If they really thought they were going to outsmart Danya and beat the game, it would be a good idea to do something besides sit around and wonder what they were going to do. They had to figure out how to get the collars off, before anything else. Of course, at the thought, Khrysta's attention immediately fell to the many corpses lying around them.

"We can't do anything with the collars on," she muttered quietly before sighing a little, "We need to find out how they work."

She wondered if they would get the implication as her eyes once again trailed over to the corpses. Personally, she didn't want to be the test subject for someone to tinker with the collar, mostly because odds are, the first few times they messed with them, they'd wind up simply detonating them on accident. And... at least with the corpses, they were already dead. It's not like they would feel it or anything.
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Escape.

Of course it had crossed Corbin's mind. It had probably crossed everyones mind at least once during their stay on the island. Though was it possible? Could it be done? Mary seemed it was worthy to mention, and she was right. If they were going to orchestrate something that had never succeeded before, it would take planning.

Planning and luck.

Khrysta was right. With these collars around their necks they were no better then chained animals. They had no real power over this game. Everything they did contributed to it, and maybe the fact that kids would try to escape added an element to the game that Danya and his staff enjoyed.

Maybe they enjoyed watching kids get hope and try their best to break free and die.

Though, dying wasn't what Corbin wanted. The thought of going home was enough to make him immediately agree in his head that if a plan to escape was formed, he would stick to it. Corbin had wondered what this game would be like if it was made into a movie.

Corbin always dreamed of going to film school, maybe majoring in film and minoring in communications. A DJ who made films. What a life. He wondered if he escaped if he would make a movie about his experience. About this. About the two games before this.

He would. He would honor the dead students, his friends, he would show the world the true horrors of this game. He wouldn't let it become some Hollywood blockbuster that people cheered and clapped for. He would make it like the island really was. Dark, sad, with glimmers of hope throughout.

Of course, every good movie needs a good ending.

So Corbin would make sure this had a good ending. No matter what, he was going out with a bang.

He watched as Khrysta looked at the corpses.

There was only one way to find out about the collars. That was to tinker with them and test them. They obviously couldn't do it with their own, but there was enough dead around to do it with.

While the thought of huddling over a dead person made Corbin a little queasy, it was necessary. It had to be done.

He stood up and said, "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I'm in." Corbin looked at one of the corpses and said, "What do we do first with it?"
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Smoking bad for you? Yeah, he supposed that it was true, but s in good physical condition, his stamina might’ve been shot to shit due to the cigarettes, but it gave him a certain raspy quality necessary to survive in his melodic death metal world. Besides, he had been smoking for about ten years now, it wasn’t something that he simply stopped doing very easily. Truth be told he was already getting used to the migraine that was overwhelming him and how sick to his stomach the absence of the cool smoke into his lungs as he simply handed Corbin the bottle of wine and observed the discussions that where happening, truth be told he didn’t really plan on sticking with this group for the long run and if they where doing anything stupid, he probably would just bail.

Paul’s singular eye widened when the prospect of escape was brought up, truth be told it hadn’t even been something he had considered. SOTF was understandably quite popular with the hardcore/death metal and scene crowd (nothing was more trendy then something the government opposed) and Paul was well acquainted with the shows history and the two previous versions they had hosted, if anything had become clear to him it was that escape was simply not a probable thing, that is, well that is unless you managed to do something only two people had accomplished. Something that Paul, well that Paul really had planned on doing.

The truth of the matter lied in the group he was in currently. Corbin was a good speaker, but physically unremarkable, Mary was pregnant, and Khrysta was a bitch. Paul himself? Paul fell into leadership roles quite horribly, he was the muscle, he was sometimes a thinker, but most of the time he was simply someone who shirked responsibility. With the leadership choices charisma and skill, well it would take someone far more well versed in politicking to convince him that escape was even possible, much less something he could do.

And that’s when he took a sip from the flask filled with vodka, felt it burn down his throat and slipped on his jacket. Picked up his gun and began walking, characteristically he reached into his bag and pulled out a brand new lighter and started flicking it on and off very quickly. It was a bad habit that even Duncan couldn’t remove from Paul’s repertoire of annoying qualities.

“I thought you guys would see things for the way they are what with all of us being attacked not one day ago,” he paused, “Escape, is a stupid idea, the only thing you can do is survive until your group is the only one left and then someone who doesn’t have enough faith in their own ability to beat all the others snap and kill all others, yeah it’s a real nice irony,” he spat, “Dodd and Calvert both won while lookin’ to avenge someone, the only thing a group is there for is to give you someone who can die badly enough for you to get pissed off and win based on some unstoppable rage, like I said, fuck escaping, I just wanted to hang out with someone until I had to get movin’ again, looks like the time is now.”

He stared at Corbin.

“Dude, keep the wine, take care of the chicks and learn to fire your gun so some big breasted stoner don’t come out of the woodworks and try to kill you,” he winked as he turned to Mary, “Keep the baby safe and shit,” and then turned to Khrysta, “You, well...yeah, you.”

He turned around and began to walk away, this group, well for the moment they had stopped their usefulness. Paul, had no purpose being the cynical guy, it was a character trait that fit him just as well as a mini-skirt did.

That is to say, not at all.

((Paul Smith: Continued in The Earth isn't Humming for You))

"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” - Charlie Murphy


v7
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To say that Mary was surprised when Paul got up and abruptly left, proclaiming that the escape would get you nothing but killed was a large understatement in itself. At one moment, it seemed that all was well in their happy little family, and then, Paul was gone. Would they ever see him again? Mary somehow doubted it. Paul Smith seemed to be the kind of person destined for things that were out of the control of the natural evolution of things, and in the here and the now, that generally meant a spectacular, fiery death.

Nice thing to look forward to there, Mary. Fiery doom and destruction. How...cheery.

So here they were, back down to three, as the elusive and infamous Paul Smith had taken his leave. It was probably for the best, though. If Paul was willing to just up and run off, with the attitude that death was inevitable (well, it was, but Mary generally liked to think that it wasn't lurking around the corner) for them all, perhaps it was better for them to remain a threesome, rather than a foursome. With the rest of the cliff area shrouded in silence after the sudden departure of Paul, Mary took a moment to reflect.

---

Things'd been on a bit of a downward spiral, at least in terms of the world being easy on her, ever since the summer prior to the grade twelve school year. Things were going fine for Mary, and she was looking forward to grade twelve, hoping to have a great time before she and all of her friends went off to college. Time seemed to be passing so quickly for them all, and she recalled accepting an invitation for a 'girl's weekend' so quickly that her friend had barely been able to blurt out the specifics of the trip. An August weekend, just before school was to start...it was bound to be one hell of a trip, and of course, as circumstances dictated, it turned out to be one that she'd never forget...

---

Blinking for a moment as her thoughts had gone back to that August trip; the aftermath of which had left her pregnant and facing an uncertain future, Mary couldn't help but find it curious that she'd be thinking back on that now, of all the times. Here they were, in what was essentially a no-win situation, and all she could think about was her unborn child and the spontaneous fling she'd had in which it had been concieved? Shaking her head slightly, Mary found that her own priorities seemed to be way out of whack.

Oh, yes. It's all well and good that I'm concerned about my child and remembering back in the good old days prior to becoming a walking baby-container, but right now, in the here and the now? There are far worse things that I should be worrying about. Like staying alive, and what we're going to do now that my bright idea about escaping seems to have flopped.

Breaking the seemingly self-imposed silence that the group had taken upon themselves, Mary shrugged and innocently looked around at Corbin and Khrysta.

"I hate to say it, but I don't really think that we'll ever see Paul again. I think that...shooting that girl really had an impact on him. But maybe...I mean, you never know, right?"

Placing her hand on her elongated belly, Mary slowly stood up, stretching out her back and legs; as she'd been sitting for a few minutes now, definitely having regained her breath.

"So...what should we do now, Khrysta?"

Looking to the other girl for guidance, Mary again found herself noting that while Corbin had the big gun, it was in fact Khrysta who commanded the leadership of the small little group. Mary preferred it that way. Guys always seemed to be wanting to run into things head-first, without thinking about them. Khrysta was far more rational than that, and as nice a guy as Corbin seemed to be, Mary couldn't help but wonder if given the right circumstances, male hormonal fury might not get the better of him, too.

Goodness me, if anyone was reading my mind right now, I'd sound like quite the uber-feminist, wouldn't I? Haha! Yeah, right. I'm just...just glad that Khrysta has control of things...is all.

Stretching her arms and yawning a bit, Mary looked out at the sea, and couldn't help wishing that she'd been able to see it under far happier circumstances than what they were currently going through.
---
The Future

The Past

Meanwhile...
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Khrysta was somewhat surprised when Corbin seemed to catch on to her idea almost instantaneously, even going so far as to agreeing to it without any qualms whatsoever. Truthfully, Khrysta wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea herself, even though she'd been the one who was suggesting it in the first place. There was just something that seemed to very morally wrong to desicrate the bodies of the dead.

Even if that seemed like the only way to keep themselves alive.

Before they could further expand on the idea, Paul suddenly got to his feet and chastised them all for looking for solutions besides killing. Khrysta couldn't hide the smirk that was passing across her face from the bitter irony and general stupidity that was suddenly flooding out of Paul's mouth. The second they'd taken to looking for methods of escape, he'd foresaken them on the premise that "there was no way out".

Any molecule of credit Khrysta might have given him earlier flew out the window as the words spilled out of his mouth, and as he turned his back and left the group, all she could do in response was simply shrug her shoulders.

"We're better off," she reassured the group, leaving it at that.

Ignorant fool. If he's so intent on getting himself killed, so be it.

Paul's sudden departure didn't affect the group for long. Within a few moments, Mary spoke up again, inquiring as to what their next move should be. Khrysta brushed a few loose strands of hair away from her forehead as she pondered the answer to that question. There weren't really that many options on what could be done from there on out.

They could simply continue to survive, as they'd been doing for the past three days. The problem with that plan was that sooner or later, they'd all simply stop surviving, and eventually, they'd all be dead. So, they could either start playing the game, eliminating any and every person they came across, and fight it out amongst themselves in the end, or whatever might come of it... or... they could put some serious thought into an escape plan.

"Our best option is escape," she spoke up after a moment, "So far we've just been surviving, but the obvious problem with that is that eventually, we'll all be killed. The only other option is to play the game, and that's simply something I won't lower myself into doing. The fact is, we might die attempting to escape, but so long as we're on this island, we're as good as dead anyway."

When she put it that way, the truth seemed so grim.

"If you're serious about escaping, we have to start with the collars. I'd suggest using the collars from corpses as a starting point. If we can open them up and see how they work, we may be able to figure out how to disable them."

It occurred to Khrysta that they were being recorded, and vocalizing their grand escape plan might not have been the best of ideas. Only, she was sure others had tried at least this much in the past and failed in the initial phases of the escape. Somehow, she simply didn't see Danya paying them any heed, let alone hanging on every single word of their "plan".
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Corbin was shocked when Paul decided to leave the group. Paul seemed like one of them now, he saved Corbin's life from that crazy girl. Now he's gone. Just left because they were planning on escaping. Which was the ultimate form of survival right? Corbin felt the weight of his M16 slung on his shoulder. It felt so heavy. Maybe it wasn't his weapon that was heavy. Maybe it was something else, something more spiritual.

Corbin watched the emptiness in which Paul disappeared in. Darkness. Once again Corbin was in darkness. It was going to be light soon though. For the island had the pre-dawn lighting going on.

Corbin wasn't sure what to say. He was out of words. He wanted to sit back in the chair at his high school that rolled. The comfortable one behind the DJ board which he operated. He missed pulling the mic down and pressing the "on" button and speaking about the music being played. He missed interviewing students. Some of which were dead now. He missed filming movies for the film contests.

He missed winning the contests.

All these were just thoughts now. Never to be relived. Never. Corbin knew what happened to people on this island. He knew that if he went away like Paul, he would die. That's all that awaited you. Death.

There was no living except for one person. One person.

Corbin wouldn't be that person. So what did he do?

He did was Mary did. He looked up to Khrysta for guidance.

Khrysta said if they were serious about escape, they needed to start with the collars. She was right. The collars were they biggest draw back. Corbin knew a little about electronics and circuitry. He needed to know stuff for his cameras and for the radio. He's no expert, but it was a start.

Corbin looked at Mary and Khrysta and said, "Any of you good at this kind of stuff?" Corbin then motioned down to the collar around the corpses neck.

((Continued from Aive Out of Habit))

Many people have different views on fate. Some say there's no such thing. Many believe that fate is just a term that people use to explain things that shouldn't happen, things that are rare, special, whatever it may be. Luck was the same way. Whether you believed in the term, the fact of the matter was things did happen that appeared to be 'lucky' or 'fate'.

That term could be applied now. What better situation then to have the islands local escape junkie (and group leader) Neil Sinclair, stumble upon another group who say escape as their only solution. Though if the group took him in and listened to his plans was another matter. He has had bad luck in that category lately, but he wasn't about to give up.

Neil Sinclair heard the group before he saw the group. His trip from the hospital here would have been humorous under different circumstances. Shortly after leaving the jungle, Neil had accidentally bumped into Matthew, the newest (and currently only) member of SADD with him. Though Evan was still out there, though where was unsure, and if he was still alive that was also unsure.

Though back to the antidote. By bumping into Matthew in the darkness, it had scared Neil quite a bit. So he took off running. Though he never made it very far before he tripped, and fell into a creek. So he was soaking wet, before he had to re-group with Matthew.

Though after those events, the trip had been quiet. Neil walked in silence with Matthew most the time, checking to make sure he was still with him every so often.

Though now, in the present, Neil Sinclair, slowly approached Mary, Khrysta, and Corbin, his hands raised high.

Normally, he would have waited in the tree line and made sure they were ok. Though, he stumbled on them too fast to run away, and lost any element of surprise. So he had to take a leap of faith. Either they killed him, or they didn't, and Neil was hoping for the latter.

So hands raised, he looked at the threesome and said, "I'm Neil Sinclair. I'm not playing. I-uh...." Neil felt his clothes, which were still wet, sticking to his skin. "I'm kinda wet too."




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((Continued from Alive Out of Habit))


Matthew was in a worse mood then he’d ever been in his life. That meant an extremely bad mood. He couldn’t believe Kallie was so foolish. He’d have though she’d be at least somewhat smarter than that. Eventually she’ll have to deal with the deaths of her friends. But she couldn’t see that. She was a fool.

The trip from the hospital was the only thing that brought a bit of a smile to Matt’s face. Neil had bumped into him and gotten spooked. He’d then tripped over a branch and fallen into a creek, getting himself soaking wet. Matt thought it was cute. Neil was soaked to the brim, and he would probably catch a cold before long. They’d have to either dry his clothes or find new ones for him. Plus, the wet clothes sticking to Neil’s body wasn’t doing much for Matthew’s little problem.

Eventually the duo ended up at the cliffs, and Neil had literally stumbled upon a group. Matt followed him out and looked over the group. He distinctly remembered them from when he was at the airfield, but he was sure there was another member of their little group. Maybe he had been killed? It was Paul though… so Matt sort of doubted it.

“I guess we meet again… We aren’t playing.” Matt sighed and looked to Neil. He tried to convey through a look that he doubted they were looking to take people on.
The Dan: she won me over with card games, brownies, sex and handcuffs

Edited as of 12/1/11

Alive: Norelia Concepcion, Elliot Stone, Allegra Hoffman

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