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Intravenous Nightmare; G037 Start - TOPIC CLOSED
Topic Started: Aug 8 2010, 05:41 AM (4,214 Views)
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A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.
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G037 - Sarah Atwell Start

Sarah Atwell groaned slightly as she rolled to one side. Thin spikes of pain shot through her head, as if she was enduring the worst hangover in her life. Groggily she put a hand to her face, covering the thin ray of light from the crack in the curtains that streamed across her face; the thing that must of woken her up. She could only remember snippets of the dream she was having. Waking up to go on the school trip, checking for new batteries on her camera, and then lights. Gunfire. Screams. The teenager shut her eyes tightly, as if willing the nightmare to fade from her memory. Clearly unsuccessful at this attempt she rolled on to her back to avoid the glaring beam of light that cast on to the bed. Sarah's mind clicked over, ever so slowly in the grey dawn, lying on her bed. Her bed, that was specifically positioned to avoid any morning sunlight. Sarah was not a morning person and had carefully positioned her room to maximize the time she could have sleeping in on any given morning without disruption. Which could only mean this was not her room!

Her eyes snapped open at the realisation, and she sat bolt upright, her heart thumping faster that she had ever felt it before. She couldn't control her breathing, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Then the cold metallic touch of the collar around her neck found its way to her sensory cortex and her breathing stopped altogether. Grabbing at the collar she frantically started tugging with all her might as her chest started to tighten up. It felt like an immense weight was pressing down on her and combined with the flashes of light bursting in her eyes the girl could not think rationally.

"uh" Sarah let out a noise, somewhere halfway between a sob and a plea as she tugged again and again at the collar around her neck. She didn't like things around her neck, she couldn't breath, it was suffocating her. "uh uh." Tears started welling at her eyes as she rolled off the bed twisting, pulling, wringing the collar. Doing everything she could to get the thin metal band away from it's current location. Blood began to drip from her neck as the friction of the device started to wear away at the skin. She furiously whipped this way and that.

Minutes passed as she continued to tear at the device, but soon her frantic energy began to wear out. Falling to her knees Sarah crawled across the floor and huddled up against a wall quietly sobbing, tugging at the collar from time to time as if her mind had conceded for now that it was a futile attempt, but still wanted it off.

She didn't know how long passed before she regained some semblance of coherency but knew that it was the firm, reassuring feel of her Sony digital video camera that brought her back to reality. Still struggling to control her sobs and sniffling slightly she popped open the viewfinder of the camera, hearing the reassuring click as it fell in to place and the beep signifying the battery pack still had life. Peering through the viewfinder she lifted her arm up, her left hand still slightly pulling at the collar around her neck, as if it was holding back a noose threatening to choke her once more. Her breathing laboured and heavy she panned the camera around.

The room was still dark but with the cracks in the curtains she could make out a row of beds, sheets clean but with a fine layer of dust across most of them. One door led out, with a singular pane of glass, slightly dusty and fogged over. A duffel bag lay next to the bed she had scrambled out of, tipped over to one side as if pushed. Carefully standing up Sarah moved her way over to the bag, tentatively unzipping the large zip that held the contents. Curiousity had got the better of the girl as her breathing slowly returned to normal as she opened the bag and emptied the contents out. A medical kit, some food and a tiny *clink* gave notice to the presence of a small key.

As she bent down to pick it up Sarah's heart rate started up again as it dawned on her. The man in the dream. The lights. The screams. The *gunfire* was all real. A wave of nausea washed over her but she was brought out of her thought spiral, horrible images rushing through her head by the tell-tale tinkle of feet crushing glass, just outside the door. Whipping her camera up and flicking on the 'record' button she tentatively called out. "Who... Who's there?"
Edited by Fanatic, Aug 8 2010, 05:59 AM.
Sickness: Partially suicidal... very slightly because of my report, but mostly because Jason is dead. All of my personal issues stem from the fact that Jason Harris did not win SotF v4

William 'Woozie' Wu - "Hey Pheebs, you're amazing babe."

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B005- Adrian Staib Start

Adrian Staib was awake, but not up. He was simply on his back, on the floor, staring at the ceiling. He had been like this for some time now. His brain was processing so much information, he honestly had no clue what to do. His mind kept flashing back to the last thing he remembered before he woke up here. The screams, the crying, the yelling, and most of all, the blood. Adrian had been injured before, it was quite common for someone of his stature, but the blood he saw then was only in small amounts, something some bandages could cover up. What he had seen then, when those teachers were killed, was nothing that could be fixed by a bandage. The harsh realization hit Adrian once again; they were dead.

"We are all going to die."

Adrian's brain forced his body to sit up at that point. He began to quietly gasp in air. His eyes darted around and he began to take in his surroundings. He seemed to be in a medium-sized room. There were two doors: one to the outside, and one door with a dusty pain of glass leading to what seemed to be further inside the building. There were a few small windows close to the ceiling which had been broken, leaving shattered glass all over the floor. Adrian learned this a bit too late when he slid his right hand across the floor. A small amount of pain shot through his hand as a shard of glass cut into it, causing it to drip blood on the tile below.

"Dammit," Adrian thought, "I haven't even been awake for that long, and I'm already injured." It wasn't too bad, but a cut was a cut nonetheless. He decided that he'd better cover it up somehow. Didn't that Danya guy say something about a pack? Adrian looked over his shoulder to see what he had been laying on before. As he had guessed, it was his pack. He lifted it ever so slightly of the ground with his good hand, and moved it to his side. After setting it back down, he quietly opened the bag, and peeked inside. He placed his left hand in and grabbed what felt like a first aid kit. He pulled it out of his bag and opened it. He then grabbed the roll of bandages, and wrapped his hand.

When that was done, he once again glanced into his bag and saw a number of things, but one thing caught his eye in particular: it was a gun. A pistol, to be more precise. Adrian felt his heart jump. Had he been lucky enough to get a gun of all things? Could this even be considered luck? Was he happy about this? Should he be happy about this? Adrian quite frankly didn't know what to think. All he knew was that he had a gun. A gun used bullets, so after some more digging, Adrian found those too. He placed one clip into the pistol, and heard the very small *click* as it locked into place. Adrian's stomach sank. He was actually loading a gun; a gun to kill people.

"No. This is only for emergencies."

Adrian could not bring himself to the thought of killing; at least, not right now, anyway. He placed the loaded gun at his side and opened up the manual that came with it. When he found the safety on the gun, he turned it on and placed the gun back into his bag, zipped the bag closed, stood up, and slung the bag over his shoulder. He thought the best course of action right now would be to stay indoors, and hopefully out of danger. He started to walk to the door leading farther inside.

Adrian had once again forgotten that the floor was covered in glass, and winced as the sound of it breaking beneath his feet echoed throughout the building. He froze as he heard a voice come from another room.

"Who... Who's there?"

The voice sounded female, and sounded like one Adrian had heard before. This didn't narrow it down at all, given Adrian has talked to almost everyone at least once or twice. His mind started to race on what to do. Should he get defensive? Should he run? Adrian's hand started to move back to his bag. He forced his hand forward and calmed himself down. He tried his best to think of the situation in a logical manner. This person sounded scared to him, so she was probably as nervous as he was. He decided to be as calm as possible, and to try not to come off as any sort of threat.

Adrian stayed out of the line of sight from the doorway, just in case, and called back. "It's...Adrian. I mean no harm, I'm not trying to kill anyone."
Edited by Vanikoro, Aug 8 2010, 08:56 PM.
Currently on leave for goodness knows how long.

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B104: SIMON FLETCHER
START


It was very dark.

In fact, it was so dark that for a second Simon Fletcher thought that he had woken up in his own bed. That everything he had seen-the bullets, the blood, and the god-awful screaming-were simply a figment of his imagination. That he would get out of bed, and go onto his school trip. That his parents and little sister were only a room or two away. The first thing that brought him out of that fantasy was the heavy feel of the metal collar around Simon’s neck. It pressed tightly, forcing the chain necklace he always wore to almost cut into his flesh. Sweat had formed under the collar, and its presence seemed to mock him. Nothing will ever be the same again, Fletcher.

He forced himself to stay as calm as possible. The room was shadowy, but there was a faint beam of light off to the side of his vision. Curtains? Simon jumped up from the spot on the floor he had been lying on (how could you ever think that this was your own room?) and yanked the shabby pieces of cloth down. The glow that came through showed him that the small room has was in consisted of the window, a door to behind him that seemed to led inside a building, and a lot of boxes in between.

The boxes were cardboard, and as Simon found out, mostly empty. Only yellowed papers and dust seemed to remain. The only thing inside the room that seemed of any use to him was the pack that the terrorist had mentioned. He opened it slowly, wondering if anything inside was going to kill him. But instead, he found a little white box with a red cross on the front, what appeared to be food, and a last gift that he had almost failed to notice.

It’s a gun. It wasn’t a very impressive gun, certainly not anything that Simon had used in one of his video games. There was ammunition for the gun too. He felt the weight in his hand as he picked it up. This was his curse from the man named Danya, something to make even a scrawny guy like him able to kill the other students. He put the ammo in his weapon, absentmindedly. It wasn’t so hard, to load a gun. It probably wasn’t any harder to shot it.

That thought made Simon flinch. You’re going to kill with that thing? You? Simon Fletcher, even with that gun, do you really think you’re going to survive this? Think about it. There are over 200 students here, each of which is looking out for their own survival. Many of them are bigger than you, stronger than you, more able to survival than you. A good amount of them must have their own guns. And I’ll bet that at least one of those knows how to use it, which is more than you can say. Face it, Fletcher, you’re dead.

That thought ruined Simon’s calm. His legs gave out from under him, and he hit the floor with a painful collapse. He lay on the ground like that, sweating and panting and trying to make everything around him-from the boxes to the collar to the stupid, stupid gun-disappear into the faint light forever. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that until he heard the voice.

"Who... Who's there?"

The voice was faint, as if coming from a few doors away. Simon lifted his head high enough to see that the doorway in front of him was open enough for him to leave. He tried to stand up, but once again his legs failed him and the boy crashed to the floor.

"It's...Adrian. I mean no harm, I'm not trying to kill anyone."

This other voice was louder. And though the name didn’t ring any bells for him, Simon knew what this meant. Other students, the ones put here to murder. But the both the voices sounded nervous, and Simon wondered if this meant that they were just as confused as he was. He brought himself to his feet, little by little, pulling himself up by the door handle. Once he was on his feet, Simon found it much easier to walk out the door, one step at a time.

“I’m Simon! Simon Fletcher! I-I’m not going to hurt anybody.” The voices sounded closer, and he wondered if running toward the other students was the most intelligent thing to do in this situation.

What does it matter, Simon Fletcher? You’re dead anyway.
Version 4 Character:
Simon Fletcher (B104): Dead at The Sawmill

Version 5 Character:
Casey Malkovich (G037): Dead at The Farmhouse

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A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.
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"It's...Adrian. I mean no harm, I'm not trying to kill anyone."

As Adrian called out Sarah visibly relaxed. She had found someone, and they were friendly. Adrian was a huge guy, and intimidating, but he wouldn't hurt a fly. Keeping the camera up Sarah called out.

"Oh Adrian! It's me, Sarah."

Moving over to the exit, the bag left unattended she moved to open the door. Grabbing the handle the cool feel of metal rushed down her hand and made her pause. What if... what if Adrian was tricking her? What if he had a gun? What if he was going to *shoot* her with it?

"Uh hey... Adrian." Sarah stuttered. "What... what did you get? In your bag I mean?"

Another voice, this one muffled "...Simon...hurt anybody..." and then a wretched squeak as someone outside opened a door. Sarah jumped back, letting out a high pitched squeal of fright and, taking a few more steps as she stared at the door, left leg shaking ever so slightly.

"I've... I've got... a gun" she said, building up confidence. "and it's a big one, if you come in and try to hurt me I will shoot you! With bullets!"

There was still a warble in her voice and Sarah mentally kicked herself. A big one? With bullets? How bad of a liar could you be? She knew a little about guns from her brother, the very least she could of done was tell him the model and make of this imaginary weapon. Still, she didn't move away from the door any more, and her silhouette, clearly weaponless and holding her camcorder was framed against the somewhat frosted glass of the pane in the doorway.

Glancing over to the bed and then back at the doorway she waited for a reply, or a scuffle. If whoever was out there with Adrian was fighting maybe she could run or hide.
Sickness: Partially suicidal... very slightly because of my report, but mostly because Jason is dead. All of my personal issues stem from the fact that Jason Harris did not win SotF v4

William 'Woozie' Wu - "Hey Pheebs, you're amazing babe."

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"Oh Adrian! It's me, Sarah."

That's who the voice belonged to! Sarah! Adrian remembered her from when she went around school with her camera conducting all those interviews. She sounded relieved, which was a good sign to Adrian that she wasn't out to kill him.

He made his way over to the door, and stopped as he saw her silhouette reaching for the door handle. He decided to let her open the door. He wanted to try to be as passive as possible as to not pose a threat to her.

"Uh hey... Adrian. What... what did you get? In your bag I mean?"

Adrian hesitated before answering. He didn't think it would be the best idea to flaunt the fact that you have a gun soon after meeting someone; you don't want to scare them away. After all, a gun seemed like it pretty much labeled you as someone who was going to kill people, regardless of your intentions. On the other hand, though, it would probably be worse if he hid the gun from Sarah, only for her or anyone else to find out he had it later; that would really make any situation go downhill.

"My weapon? Well..." Adrian took a breath. "I got a gun, a small one. I'm not holding it right now." He raised his hands above his shoulders, unaware if Sarah would actually see that gesture. "It's in my bag."

"I'm Simon! Simon Fletcher! I-I'm not going to hurt anybody."

A new voice hit Adrian and he froze as he heard a door opening. Taking a second to absorb what the new voice had just said, he slowly turned around to face it. Once again, Adrian's hand moved toward his bag. His mind then registered that is was Simon who was calling out. Adrian had seen him a few times around the school.

"I've... I've got... a gun and it's a big one, if you come in and try to hurt me I will shoot you! With bullets!"

Adrian didn't know if that was directed towards him or Simon, but it seemed Sarah was quick to get defensive. He guessed that this was understandable, since he was also really nervous. He didn't want any gun fights breaking out, though, so he tried his best to stay calm.

"Nobody is trying to kill each other here." He called out in the direction of Simon's voice. "But just for safety's sake, I think it would be best if you came over here with your hands where we could see them, no offense."
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The two voices were talking amongst themselves, and Simon was able to pick out the main gist of their conversation. Apparently, the boy (Adrian) had a gun too, but it didn’t seem like he was out to use it. Maybe Simon had made the right decision after all in deciding to talk to them. It was becoming increasingly clear that everyone was in the same boat as him and they were not all going to snap that easily.

"I've... I've got... a gun and it's a big one, if you come in and try to hurt me I will shoot you! With bullets!" The girl’s voice was still afraid, but gaining confidence. Simon stepped back a few paces. Another gun? Maybe everybody in this fucking game has one. If that was true, he was even more dead than he had previously thought.

Simon wondered if he should go in and try to talk to them even with the threat. He had read enough books and playing enough games to know that being alone in these sort of situations was an automatic death sentence, and there didn’t appear to be anyone else around. The girl seemed nervous, but if he walked in slowly without his gun in hand, maybe she would realize he was harmless. It was worth a try, at least.

But what if she really does have a gun, or something else that could be easily used to kill? If you aren’t prepared for that, you’ll be gone before you can even do anything. Maybe it would be best to just run out of here and stay away from the other students.
Images of his teachers flashed through Simon’s head. He was a polite boy; the school faculty had always liked him. He had liked them too, he realized, but they weren’t coming back. This was real, his life was on the line, and the chances of Simon Fletcher making it past even the first day by running and hiding were too low to consider.

He made a decision. There’s no way to know if she has a gun or not, but the other one definitely did. I need to approach this carefully.

Adiran's voice called out. "Nobody is trying to kill each other here. But just for safety's sake, I think it would be best if you came over here with your hands where we could see them, no offense."

Simon bit his tongue. So what if they didn’t trust him? They were just being smart, that was all. Their lives were on the line, too. He put his pack on his side and walked toward the voices, keeping his hands level with his head and open palmed.

The two students were in a room behind an open door. Simon saw Adrian first. Although the name hadn’t come to his panicked mind when he tried to figure out who the guy was, Simon recognized the tall student. The girl had a ponytail and a camera in her hand, which led Simon identify her easily. Her name was Sarah, and she had done some video on their graduating class.

“Um…I don’t want to fight anyone. I have a gun in my pack, but I’m not going to shoot, okay?” Simon kept his hands up. He figured since Adrian had come clean with his weapon, he might as well do the same.

((Edit because I apparently cannot spell "threat" the first two times))
Edited by Tagabasa, Aug 11 2010, 07:32 PM.
Version 4 Character:
Simon Fletcher (B104): Dead at The Sawmill

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Casey Malkovich (G037): Dead at The Farmhouse

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A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.
[ *  *  *  * ]
They had guns, they *both* had guns and poor old Sarah Atwell had... had... what did she have? Maybe she had a gun too! Running over to her duffel bag, items strewn all over the place she frantically emptied the bag searching desperately for some sort of weapon. Finding nothing she let out a short shriek of frustration, nothing too loud, just enough to vent and turned the bag upside down and shaking it.

She had been given nothing. *Nothing* and everyone else had guns. Surely she would of been given something, even just a...

Sarah paused, placing her hand on her Jean pocket. The outline of the small key she had pocketed earlier pressed up against her thigh.

"No." Sarah stated in disbelief. She had been given a key. A *key*. What kind of weapon is a key? How do you fight someone with a key, it was just ridiculous. All of it was ridiculous.

She heard Simon's voice calmly request her to come out with her hands up and she shook her head. If they wanted her they could come to her. She had enough food to last her a few days and if they just left she could maybe escape. Sarah shivered once more at the thought. Escape to where, and do what? She didn't know and she had to think, but she couldn't think, it was so fast, couldn't keep up, collar tight around neck, couldn't breath, guns, screaming.

Sarah collapsed, hyperventilating in the throes of a panic attack.
Sickness: Partially suicidal... very slightly because of my report, but mostly because Jason is dead. All of my personal issues stem from the fact that Jason Harris did not win SotF v4

William 'Woozie' Wu - "Hey Pheebs, you're amazing babe."

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Adrian visibly relaxed when he saw Simon come into his line of sight. The fact that Simon had come into the room calmly meant that he was someone Adrian thought he could trust.

"Um...I don't want to fight anyone. I have a gun in my pack, but I'm not going to shoot, okay?"

Another gun? How many were in this game? Adrian knew he could only count for the three people that were here, but what about everyone else? The thought frightened him, and he quickly brought himself back to the present. He took a deep breath, and then began speaking to Simon.

"Thanks Simon, I trust you on that." Adrian nodded as a signal the Simon could also relax. "So..." He was at a loss of words at this point. He really hadn't been thinking that far ahead this whole time; just focusing on the moment. "Now that we're all on the same page, what happens now?"

Then the sound of somebody hitting the ground met his ears. Adrian turned around to where he thought Sarah was still standing. Sarah was no longer there. He quickly stepped into the next room to find her on the ground in what waht looked like a panic attack. He ran over to her and crouched down close to where she was. Adrian's brain started to go into panic mode."Did something happen when I was talking to Simon? Is she sick?"

"Sarah? Calm down!" He tried his best to calm her down while trying to remain calm himself. "What happened? Are you alright?"
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The male student, Adrian, seemed to relax somewhat. "Thanks Simon, I trust you on that." He nodded, and Simon took that as a cue to put his hands down. He did so, and was surprised to notice how much more comfortable he felt. Even around people he thought he could trust, Simon didn’t like the felling of utter helplessness. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but who knew if the next room over didn’t hide some kid with a gun who had already cracked and was ready to kill.

"So..." Adrian continued. "Now that we're all on the same page, what happens now?"

Simon had honestly not thought about that. He understood the situation they were in well enough. He and his classmates were stuck on an island and being forced to murder each other. A few of the students had probably jumped right into the game, either driven by an urge to survive or maybe a hidden bloodlust that just came to light. While they were talking, others were looking to kill their opponents or defend themselves by any means necessary. Maybe somebody had already been killed. God knows what would have happened to Simon if Adrian and Sarah walked in on him loading his gun.

But he got back to the problem at hand. “Well, we should probably figure out where we are first. There’s a window in the room I woke up in, that leads outside.” Simon sat down on the ground trying to think. “We could hide here for a while, I guess. Or…” He leaned back. “Is there anyone you want to find? Friend, lover, whatever? ‘Cause…I mean…” He didn’t finished the sentence, but let it hang in the air for a few seconds, until he heard a thud from the next room.

“What was th-“ Adrian had already taken off for the other room, and Simon jumped to his feet and followed him. Sarah had collapsed to the floor.

Simon heard Adrian’s voice, attempting to stay composed. "Sarah? Calm down! What happened? Are you alright?" The voice seemed further away than it was.

She’s okay, right? There’s no way she’s dying. She’ll be fine, she has to be fine. She’s my age, she’s a good person. This can’t be happening, not really.

But no amount of trying to make it all go away worked. Sarah was still on the floor, Adrian crouched over her. Simon forced his legs to stay up, and pushed back the lump in his throat. You can vomit later, now’s not the time.

“Sarah! Sarah, can you hear me? Breathe in deeply, okay? Here, with me.” Simon’s words seemed jumbled to his ears, but he tried to sound as calm as possible. He took a long breath, the realized it. “Inhale, Exhale. Think about something you like, and then try it again. In, out. In, out.” Simon wasn’t sure if that what how you were supposed to deal with this kind of situations, but he had no better ideas to try.
Version 4 Character:
Simon Fletcher (B104): Dead at The Sawmill

Version 5 Character:
Casey Malkovich (G037): Dead at The Farmhouse

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Actually a cat.
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((Ben Powell continued from Misty Mountain Hop))

"We're here."

With a nod, Benjamin "Ben" Powell stopped and smiled at the building in front of him. Examining the map, he gave a nod. This had to be it. Further on lay the town, with them on the main road leading in. It couldn't be any easier. Hell, they hadn't seen a single human soul on the track. Adjusting his shoulder straps, he chuckled. "That was good. You OK, big fella?"

It's perfect. Too perfect.
What brain, you think someone's setting up a trap or something? Come on, there's no-one here.
I servilely doubt that there's no-one in that building. You're going to have to be calm and rational here. One false move and you, me and Jacob are toast.


He sighed. His brain was right, the chances of someone being in there was high. Turning around to his partner, he licked his lips and started to speak. "OK, there's a very good chance that someone's in there. If they're friendly, there's nothing to fear. But we may need to run at any time, you hear me? I don't want people to play hero and die because of it."

Closing his eyes, he exhaled. Maybe he went too far. "Sorry if I'm being overbearing. Let's... let's just find Paige."

Turning around, he slowly started to walk to the infirmary.

Shit, what am I doing here? What if Jacob dies? I mean, he's my best mate, what the hell-
Shut up, Ben. Burn that bridge when we get to it... voices inside. Panicked.


Blinking, he held up his fist in a stop signal, clicking the paintball gun to live. The door echoed with the voices inside. He couldn't make them out on voice alone... although they were talking about a Sarah. He looked at Jacob. Quietly as possible, he whispered.

"Something's going on in there... should we enter?"
B069 Ben Powell: That's a bout. Salute. Shake hands.
G052 Sapphire McLeod: The Youngest Was The Most Loved
G084 Eve Walker-Luther: The Prime Time Of Your Life


Game Over. Continue?
> y

Jamie Snicket
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personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Jacob Charles continued from Misty Mountain Hop))

Jacob wasn't nearly as concerned with the hike as he was with finding his friends and their safety. Ben was basically leading the way to the infirmary, and soon, after a few hours, they stopped. They were there.

He sure hoped Ben knew what they were probably getting themselves into. He didn't know if Paige was there, or if someone could come out, gun's a blazin' and ready to shoot their heads off. All he knew was that they had to just follow a wild goose chase to wherever Paige was.

"We're here."

"So we are, Ben. So we are."

Jacob was tired from the hike. Thought the fact that he needed to carry his table leg on him always (Jacob grimaced at the fact that he ever had to say or think that phrase), strong as he was, he always wanted his stamina up so he could last a little bit longer when doing stuff like this. It wasn't like he was ever going to get a chance to do that anyway. He still had no plans for what would happen once he found Paige. All he wanted to do was just...see her again.

"That was good. You OK, big fella?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine."

He wanted to start the banter again, but he was puffed. This island was like nothing he'd been in before. Part of him wanted to just lay down in the sun, cool off, cap over his head while he would eat his rations with gusto. He had already devoured one of the bread rolls on the way here.

Ben started again, this time a bit more serious.

"OK, there's a very good chance that someone's in there. If they're friendly, there's nothing to fear. But we may need to run at any time, you hear me? I don't want people to play hero and die because of it."

"Righto, mate. I'll keep on my legs, just remember to not shoot if it is Paige or someone who can help us. Sure a paintball to the face won't make us popular."

Jacob was sure that if someone was inside, they would probably not be hardened killers out to take lives. Coupled with his undying faith in his year and their morals was the fact that there wasn't really much to kill with inside there that Jacob knew of.

Ben tried to apologize, probably thinking he'd gone too far.

"Nah, man, it's alright. You're a great guy for doing this anyway. We'll find her, I know it. Just hope it isn't too late."

There were voices coming from inside the building. Concerned voices, angry voices, desperate voices, he couldn't tell; but he knew that if there were more than one, they could probably help.

A plan of action was needed. Ben suggested going in and seeing who it was. Something held Jacob back from pursuing this.

"Wait...let's get them out here."

Jacob crept up to the left side of the door, and, the ajar door leading a sort of passageway to the commotion, gave for perfect precedent to his plan.

"Hey! Who's in there? Look, we need help, whoever! We're not playing or anything!"
Edited by Brackie, Oct 28 2010, 09:21 PM.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

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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A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.
[ *  *  *  * ]
((shortpost sorry))

Sarah, on some level heard Simon's words. Soon her breathing became less laboured and more rhythmic. However her brain had not fully caught up yet. Her handy cam swinging by her side she sat up and stared blankly at the doorway, rocking back and forth slowly.

"This, this makes no sense. None of this would ever happen!"

Staring incredulously at Simon and Adrian she started to rant.

"How are you so calm?! We're going to die! We are *all* going to die. Don't you guys get that, you... you..."

Sarah's eyes darted to Simon's gun for a second.

"We're not going to survive."

As Jacob yelled out and the boys turned Sarah made a desperate lunge at the pistol in his hand, her mind running at a hundred miles per hour. If she could get the gun she could tell them all to go away, to get out and she could live that little while longer.
Edited by Fanatic, Aug 12 2010, 12:43 AM.
Sickness: Partially suicidal... very slightly because of my report, but mostly because Jason is dead. All of my personal issues stem from the fact that Jason Harris did not win SotF v4

William 'Woozie' Wu - "Hey Pheebs, you're amazing babe."

V4
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Cannon Fodder
[ * ]
Adrian started to calm down as soon as Sarah's breathing went back to normal. The freak-out she had just had really scared him. Now that she seemed calm again, Adrian decided to speak. Just as he opened his mouth Sarah had said something.

"This, this makes no sense. None of this would ever happen!"

He didn't know what to say for this. In fact, Adrian didn't think there was a response for that statement. He new very well aware that there was nothing he could say that would make this situation any better. Either way, it didn't look like Sarah was looking for answers, it looked like she just need to talk.

"How are you so calm?! We're going to die! We are *all* going to die. Don't you guys get that, you... you... We're not going to survive."


Adrian knew that. The reality of his own death had hit him awhile ago. To answer the question at hand, though, he really didn't know why he was so calm. Sarah had every right to say and do everything she had so far, but why was he so calm? It was something Adrian couldn't easily dismiss. Was he...desensitized to the idea of killing his classmates?

Before speaking, he turned to Simon to see if he had anything to say. Maybe he would answer Sarah's questions better than Adrian could.

"Hey! Who's in there? Look, we need help, whoever! We're not playing or anything!"


Adrian was then distracted by a voice from outside. His mind skipped right to responding to the voice. After all, these people had said they weren't playing, and so the least they could do is respond.

"Hey! It's Adrian! I'm with two others, and We aren't playing either-"Adrian was cut off as he saw Sarah lunge at Simon. Out of reflex, he called out.

"Sarah!"
Currently on leave for goodness knows how long.

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The Killable One
[ *  *  * ]
Sarah was breathing in a normal manner and even managed to sit up. Simon felt himself calm down a little more too. She was going to be okay, of course. There was no way in hell he was going to watch his own classmates die in front of him like this, damn the stupid game.

"This, this makes no sense. None of this would ever happen!" Sarah was rocking back and forth. "How are you so calm?! We're going to die! We are *all* going to die. Don't you guys get that, you... you..." There was a short, tiny pause. "We're not going to survive."

But you already know that, don’t you? That’s why you haven’t taken that pistol to anybody’s head. Some part of Simon had decided that he was dead, and made him determined not to waste his final days becoming a soulless killing machine. But…Sarah had a point. Was the reason he had not fallen apart the positive, decent one he told himself, or was it something altogether darker. Did he not care that his classmates were going to kill each other on this island? Did he just see this as some kind of book, where everything turns out okay in the end?

Adrian glanced at him, as if looking for an answer. Sorry, so sorry, but you’re not going to get a good one from me. Simon didn’t even know what he thought about the situation, much less how to put it in words that other people could understand. Luckily, he was spared having to say anything by a new voice coming from outside.

"Hey! Who's in there? Look, we need help, whoever! We're not playing or anything!" It was a male student, a voice that Simon recognized but couldn’t quite put his finger on.

"Hey! It's Adrian! I'm with two others, and we aren't playing either-" Adrian yelled back. Simon turned around to address the newcomers, but was interrupted by Sarah, who lunged at his hand. The hand he held his gun in.

The first thing that went through Simon’s mind was When did I take out the gun? He had been unarmed when he meet with Adrian. Simon suddenly realized that when Sarah had fallen to the ground, he must have pulled it out subconsciously in case someone was attacking them. He didn’t know if he should have been ashamed or proud of that reflex.

The second thing that went through Simon’s mind was She’s going to kill me. There seemed to be no other logical reason why the girl would try to take the pistol. Maybe she didn’t trust him, or was panicking, or just hated him for some reason Simon did not know. Whatever the reason, Sarah wanted to shoot him.

Adrian’s shout had made Simon jump back, but not enough that Sarah’s fingernails didn’t scratch his wrist and graze the handle. He got to his feet and started at the two students. Why did Sarah do that? Was Adrian planning to kill him too? Simon bolted for the door. If he stayed here any longer, he was liable to die real soon. And somehow, having an abstract idea that his death was eminent and actually being shot were two different things.

Simon ran out the room's door and down the hallway. The door to the outside was very close, which might explain how they were able to hear the other students. The thought flashed through his head that the voice had asked them for help. Was he (or maybe someone else he was with) injured? Simon banished that thought quickly. Adrian and Sarah might be able to help them, probably better than he would be able to. He might have at least warned them about Sarah attacking, but part of him held back on that. They might want to kill her, and Simon didn’t know whose side he was on anymore. Or whose side he was on to begin with.

Simon scampered out of the building, stuffing the pistol back into his bag. He didn’t know where he was heading, but he knew he needed to leave.

It was stupid of you to trust them anyway, Fletcher.

((Simon Fletcher continued in A Pit Stop of Sorts))
Edited by Tagabasa, Aug 13 2010, 10:19 PM.
Version 4 Character:
Simon Fletcher (B104): Dead at The Sawmill

Version 5 Character:
Casey Malkovich (G037): Dead at The Farmhouse

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Actually a cat.
[ *  *  *  * ]
That's... quite smart, actually. Trying to get them to play on your terms.
Yeah. Why didn't we think of that?
Shut up, brain.


Ben nodded and smiled as he heard the voice from beyond the door. Adrian? Wasn't he that fortune-teller guy? And there were two others. Could one of them be-

He jumped at the sudden increase in tension. A yell of Sarah, warning her or others, and now there were footsteps, running. Something went wrong, he was sure of it. Twisting his head around the doorway, he gave a slight yelp as a dark-haired guy suddenly blasted out of the doorway, knocking into Ben's shoulder and sending him staggering backwards, his pack making him almost fall over.

"Hey! What you-"

It was then he saw the gun. Almost in slow motion for the hiker, the man slowly tried to stuff the pistol into his dufflebag, the sunlight illuminating the silver.

"Oh shit."

And then time sped up again, him falling on his back, the paintball gun skidding along the road, the brown-haired gunman dashing off into the wilderness. Giving a grunt, he rolled over, scrambling up, picking up the marker again and checking it. No scratches. Shaking his head, he feared the worst as he started to run in.

"I know First Aid! Anyone been shot?"

Ben! There wasn't any gunshot sounds!
There's someone on the floor! I don't give a shit!


Chucking the paintball marker onto the floor away from the group, he opened his bag, getting out the first aid kit and turning around to see-

Sarah Atwell, perfectly alive and well. Although having a crazed look in her eye and gasping for breath.

"Oh shit."
B069 Ben Powell: That's a bout. Salute. Shake hands.
G052 Sapphire McLeod: The Youngest Was The Most Loved
G084 Eve Walker-Luther: The Prime Time Of Your Life


Game Over. Continue?
> y

Jamie Snicket
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