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Mirror Mirror; Topic Closed
Topic Started: Aug 8 2010, 06:06 AM (6,100 Views)
Little Boy
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((B137 - Roland Harte - Start))

"ARGH!"

Roland Harte jolted upwards off the floor, his eyes wide in suprise, his heart pounding. He blinked rapidly, dazed, head throbbing as the scream echoed throughout the darkened corridor he found himself in. He rolled on the hard floor, looking about in confusion for the source of the noise that had awakened him from his sleep. The corridor was empty, safe for a small lumpy backpack (His?) laying on the ground next to him.

"Dad...?" He called out deliriously into the darkness.

Shit... what... what the hell?

He swallowed and tasted bile in the back of his throat. He reached up to rub his eyes and felt his hand hit the cold metal of his glasses, a reassuring feeling in the sudden confusion.

Glasses. Why would I fall asleep with my glasses on? That voice was familiar.. I've heard it before, why does that sound famil- what's on my neck..?

As Roland's hand ran down his stubble covered face and touched the cool metal band around his neck, he felt his blood run cold. He knew what this was. The memories flooded back, invading his mind. He let out a halfgasp and felt the color drain from his face. Roland Harte sat in the darkness, heart pounding in his chest.

You know what's happened, you know what this means. Do or die Roland, you've entered the most important week of your life. Don't choke now.

Roland gulped and slide his hand back through his greasy black hair. He kept his eyes locked down the corridor and slid across the floor towards the pack, labeled B137. His eyes darted side to side.

Windows, no wait, mirrors? Where the hell am I?

Roland reached down and hurriedly unzipped the pack, rummaging about trying to find his weapon.

"Stay where you are, make no sudden movement!" He yelled down the hallway. He looked down, a flash of light rebounded off something in his pack, and Roland soon found himself holding a sharp bladed sword with a wavy blade .

Woah, talk about luck of the draw... alright focus Roland focus. Heheh... "The only easy day was yesterday..."
V5
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Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
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"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
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Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Roland could feel the blood pumping through him as he made his way down the hallway, his knife gripped tightly in his arm, ready to strike at a moments notice. The noise was close, he could hear the voice again, a girls voice. It seemed familiar to Roland, but he wasn't exactly sure why.

Stupid, this is an island filled with your classmates. Of COURSE their voices sound familiar, you've been to school with them for 4 years...

His heart beat faster. He turned the corner and mercifully saw no one. They were close. A boy now, and the girl. Talking. No gunfire yet, no screams yet. He proceeded onwards down the hall.

Yeah, but in 4 years have any of them learned enough about you so they decide AGAINST killing you on sight? Shit, what if they have a gun? Oh God help me, I'm fucked if they have a gun.... Christ, focus Roland focus! You're an army boy, you need to keep your mind on the mission ahead.

Suddenly as Roland neared the end of the hall, he froze. The mirrors. He could see someone in the mirrors. Footsteps. Sweat began to drip from his forehead. He pushed up his glasses and prepared his knife. A swift jab to the ribs would be enough to take someone down if he put enough force behind it. If he twisted, they'd be as good as fucked trying to yank the blade out...

Roland, you twisted fuck. You macabre twisted fuck, thinking like that? You can't just think like that! God.. God dammit, this is it. Pray they don't have a gun. Pray they don't rush you. Just fucking pray.

Roland yelled out a warcry and rushed around the corner, blade raised, his free hand out. He saw the figure for the first clear time and his eyes went wide with shock as he stood in front of her.

Isabel. Fucking Isabel GUERRA. I know this girl. I KNOW THIS GIRL. God have mercy...

A flash of steel in the dark and Roland found himself backing up. He'd surprised her yes, but she was armed evidently. He could only pray that it was a knife rather than a gun.

"Isabel! Drop it! Drop the knife and back up!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, in a bid to scare the girl. He kept his free hand out and his weapon back, no need to show and tell. "Don't do anything stupid here!"
V5
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Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Isabel Fucking Guerra.

Roland was tense, primed to explode. He felt like a contracted spring, a cobra waiting to strike. He was dangerous, he was ready. One jab to the gut would be all it would take to bring her down. Grab her mouth and stop her from screaming, jab her in the chest and hold her still while she would fade to oblivion. That would be all it'd take. Wipe your hands, move on.

Isabel was in my English Class this year. I sat two seats away from her. She was always reading, even when we were supposed to be taking up questions. She's intelligent, always had good enough grades. She's pretty, and doesn't hang out with jerk-asses who only care about themselves. She told me once that she likes to cook. She's a human being.

She has a family who loves her.


Sweat dripped from Roland's brow as he moved about in the dark hallway. It seemed to get smaller as he closed in on her. He was panicking. His heart beat was fast.

She has a family who loves her, who're watching right now. They are watching in horror, thinking I'm going to gut their daughter on prime time TV. She told me once she likes to cook, she's good at it. She likes to do it in her spare time, and she can make a ton of dishes.

"Hi Roland." The Girl said, waving dumbly.

If she runs at me, I'm going to gut her. Oh Christ, I'm going to gut her..

Isabel looked down at the object in her hands, confused. She glanced back up at Roland.

This is surreal. This is... This is too surreal... I can't... Am I supposed to hurt her?

"“Knife? This is a….like, a horn or a trumpet or something." She said. Her shoes clicked noisily in the dark. Roland's glasses fell down his nose, but he didn't have time to push them back up.

No, no wrong way. Step back you stupid girl, step back and put it down!

"I don’t really know the difference between the two,”

Christ, stop! I'm going to kill her... I'm going to kill her! I'm gonna' reach out quick, and stab her in the chest! Focus Roland focus! This could be a trap! She could be messing with you- on three, lean and jab on three!

Roland readjusted his grip on the knife, it was too hot in the room, far too hot.

One.... Stab her, just a clean jab, below the ribs!

Two... A clean jab so her parents don't see it get messy.. You've seen videos, just like a bayonet jab, just like a bayonet!

Three- Oh Christ, you gave her fair warning! It's a trap, she's closing in, what are you DOING!? No remorse Roland! She sat two seats away from you, fucking kill her! She has a family, who love her very much...


And just like that, the trumpet was whipping through the air, smashing into his forehead. Roland careened back in the hallway, dropping his knife and pack and tumbling backwards, crumpling against the wall. He saw stars and he cursed.

But Roland was a warrior, he was an army boy. A smack across the head wasn't going to keep him down, even if it was with a brass trumpet.

She wasn't lying. She pulled a trumpet. I've been threatening a girl with a trumpet!

Roland staggered to his feet, his vision muddled. He took a few steps and then fell again. His head hurt, his head hurt like an absolute bitch.

"Isabel! Wait!" He cried out. He managed to get up once more, using the wall for balance. He grabbed his knife and hastily threw his pack around his back. He took off after her down the twisting hallway.

"Isabel! Wait, no, you've got it all wrong! Come back!" He yelled.

Tactics be damned. She was scared, she didn't know what to do! If she ran into a real psychopath, they'll tear her limbs off! I can't let this happen, I can't ever let this happen!

Roland rushed down the hall, taking a right, then a left then another right.

Christ, how big is this hall!? Mirrors everywhere, I'm doublechecking every corner I take!

"Isabel! Please, just let me explain!"

Roland rounded a corner and much to his dismay, saw it had two potential exits.

"Fucking Christ..." He cursed and took the left and sprinted down the hallway, leaping over stray doll parts and broken mirrors laying on the floor. His feet crunched on glass and he spun around the next corner to come face to face with-

Not Isabel.

A boy and a girl were staring at him. Roland's heart sank. He knew them as well. David and Meredith. The goth (emo?) girl and Dave Morrison. He'd had classes with them. Hell, Meredith had once slipped on a dodge ball in his gym class, and damn nearly broken her back in half.

I laughed at that once. I didn't see it, but I sat on the bench and laughed at that weirdo Cisco bounded over to her aid. Romance of the social rejects. Holy Christ, Danya you are one sick mother fucker...

Roland stumbled but managed to skid to a halt before knocking into the pair. His head was still ringing from the trumpet smack and his forehead felt wet, blood? He hoped he was wrong, a bruise while ugly was preferable to bleeding all over the place. He blinked rapidly, for a second he thought he saw four of them, not two.

Christ, she really messed me up....They're staring at me. But why wouldn't they be? Not every day you see a knife wielding teen rush around the corner at you. But then again, this is Survival of the Fittest...

Roland's eyes went wide.

Wait. Then they must think I've come to- Oh Fuckshit.
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
This is quite possibly, the worst day of my life.

Roland barely had time to acknowledge Dave and Meredith before another figure appeared behind them, startled at first, he raised up his knife before he realized who it was.

Isabel.

She'd somehow made it around behind them. He cocked his eyebrow confused and lowered the knife, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank God, look Isabel-" He began before Dave interrupted him. The other boy was holding up something -a torch?- shining it in his face. With his free hand, Roland shielded his eyes from the light source, bright in the darkened maze.

Dave spoke, "Shit, Roland? It's Roland right?"

Roland realized he'd be holding his breath, awaiting the inevitable "Prepare to die!" from the trio. When it didn't come however he let go. His heart was still beating fast in his chest from the run over. He opened his mouth to explain.

"Okay look, let me explain." He gazed at Isabel. "When I woke up I was- WHAT THE FUCK!"

Out of nowhere, the crumpled form of Meredith jumped up, and began running full speed towards Roland, screaming at the top of her lungs,throwing Dave out of the way. The boy protested, but didn't aim to stop her. Roland was stunned by the action, and realized what had occurred.

She's snapped. She's gone. She was always a little fucked up, fucked up gothic girl, but now holy shit, she's gonna try to kill you!

Instinctively he gripped the knife in his hand, his eyes darting down towards it.

You can't kill her! You know her! God Dammit, this isn't what it's supposed to be like..!

Before he could speak or move, Meredith was already upon him, slamming her weight into him with all the force she could muster. Roland unprepared, stumbled backwards, dropping the knife and his pack.

Stupid Roland, stupid!

The object came flying towards his face, and for a second Roland was sure he was about to be decapitated on live TV, killed by his own inability to react. But as the hit came, smacking hard into his neck, Roland realized that Meredith had a blunt object. A blunt object that hurt like a son of a bitch, but a blunt object. The shock of the sudden unprepared strike jolted through Roland as he stumbled backwards, for a second he thought it was powerful enough to have broken something. He cursed in pain and reached out, grabbing her right wrist and her left shoulder. Meredith's plan was good, as far as shock tactics went. If it was a bladed weapon, Roland would be already dead. But the harsh reality was, after one hit he was still standing.

Roland was 6''5, around 200 pounds of mostly pure muscle, fine tuned by years of Rock Climbing, Survivalist Training, Hiking and Army Prep Drills.

Meredith was 5''5, light as a feather, wearing high-heeled boots and liked to call herself Pandora Black.

Roland picked the girl up, whipped her around, and flung her, back first, against the nearby wall. She smacked against a mirror, and the noise reverberated through the darkened hall as she fell to the floor. Roland staggered back, gingerly touching his neck.

I could've killed her just then. If I threw with full force, she'd been knocked right out, she'd have been out, but- why? Why did I only aim to hurt her? She's trying to kill me, and I'm throwing her out of the way? God Dammit! What did she hit me with!? Is that some sorta staff...? Nunchucks? My knife, where did my knife go!

Roland glanced about, frightened for a second. The last thing he needed was for Meredith to grab it and jab him in the leg when he wasn't looking. Luckily however, the knife lay just a few feet away with his pack, Roland scooped it up and spun it around, ready to stab her as she regained her composure. Once more, he hesitated.

Roland, you're a fucking pussy. Stab her! Stab her while she can't run at you again!

Instead however, Roland opened his mouth and began to speak.

"Meredith, Pandora, whatever! Stay down, I don't want to hurt you!" He looked back towards Dave and Isabel, they were standing there, just watching the proceedings.

Would it kill you guys to help out when a crazy bitch runs at me!? Fuck sake!

"I don't want to hurt people! I want to join up, I mean," He licked his lips, trying to formulate his thoughts. He backed up away from the fallen girl. "We'll stand a better chance as a group. We started out on the wrong foot, I mean, I just don't want you all sticking me like a pig, I need to watch out for myself!"

Somehow Roland figured his speech was lost on Meredith, but he couldn't quite say the same for Dave and Isabel.

"How about it guys? Let's form a regiment, yeah? Cut down on all this knife wielding..?"
Edited by Little Boy, Aug 11 2010, 03:19 PM.
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
Member Avatar
STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Roland could feel his eyebrow twitch as Isabel launched into her little rant, the bayonet trombone pointed dangerously close to his neck. He was still breathing heavily from his near fatal altercation with Meredith. The girl lay on the floor, unmoving. She'd somehow managed to twist in midair, and took the brunt of the mirror smash on her shoulder. Roland prayed that would be enough and she wouldn't get back up for round 2.

Stupid girl, you actually thought you stood a chance against me? Don't get up. Do yourself a favor... Christ, do ME a favor.

“Yeah, we sure did start off on the wrong foot. If I may, I think I can pin point your mistake in dealing with me. I think it was when you screamed threats at me and tried to hide a god damn sword. Girls don’t really like that, it’s kind of aggressive.”

Roland flinched. Isabel was REALLY getting pissed with him. He found himself growing increasingly irate as he continued to bite his tongue.

I chased after you, worried about you, and I get bitched at?

He sighed when she had finished and stepped back, grabbing his bags.

"In case you didn't realize Isabel, this is Survival of the Fittest. The chances of getting shot in the face while greeting someone has risen dramatically. Every action, every thought, from the moment you wake up needs to be planned to ensure survival. You can't just stumble about until someone beats your brains out with a tire iron. It's a darkened hallway, and you're standing there in front of someone, who may or may not be out to kill. They're holding something. Could it be a knife? A gun? Do you have time to find out before they run in an' blow your head off? What can you do? What can you say? 'Hi, don't kill me?' I took one hell of a chance on you, and it most likely saved your life."

Roland picked up his bag and glared angrily at Isabel. She still had the makeshift shiv pointed at him. It was making him angry. Didn't he already state his intentions?

"I heard you around that corner Isabel. I could have just as easily waited for you to turn around, then gut you like a fucking animal. I didn't though, because I know there is some way out of this, some way to beat this sick game and blow that fat motherfuckers' brains out. I also know that to take that cocksucker down, you can't go it alone. You need a team. Paranoia, fear, hatred, they're just as big an enemy as Danya. We're better then this. So put the fucking blade down already."

He glanced down towards Meredith, his disgust amplifying.

"People like Meredith, they're as good as fucked. They don't know it yet, but they've already succumbed to the game. They'll never make alliances, they'll never think with their heads and consider the possibility of escape, of working together. Even if they never mean to kill, soon they'll find themselves staring down the barrel of a 12 Gauge and wonder 'Could it have gone any other way?' "

He looked back towards Dave and Isabel, sizing them up. Did they understand what he was getting at? Did they have faith?

Isabel is a sharp one, she managed to make a trumpet deadly. If anyone knows what's really going down right now, it's her. Dave...? Fuck all if I can read him... Didn't exactly jump in to help when I got rushed. Is he trust worthy?

He shook his head and began to walk away towards the exit.

"Fuck this, you know where I stand. I highly advise you come with me, I'm your best chance from here on out."

Please, let them follow me God...

V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
It seemed like forever stumbling down the twisted passageway, but Roland finally breathed a sigh of relief when he felt his fingers grip a door handle. Throwing his weight into the partially stuck door, it budged free and Roland was relieved to feel the cool breeze on his face. Looking back inside he was equally relieved to see that Dave and Isabel hadn't lied, and were indeed following him.

He was equally relieved to see they didn't have their weapons out and were aiming for the back of his head. Roland barely managed to repress a shiver, stepping out into the daylight somewhat quickly.

You're overreacting Roland, overreacting. Yes, you shouldn't trust them per-say, but you're not going to convince them you've got things under control if you look back every ten seconds at them. They're your team now. Your squad. It's up to YOU to get them out of here.

"Over here," He called out to them. "Just head towards the light."

Roland looked around surveying the terrain. The wind blew his greasy black hair in his face, he pushed up his glasses and roughly slicked his hair back with his hand.

What now Roland, what now?....

Roland looked back towards the house of mirrors. As he stepped back, he was surprised at the sheer size of the building. It would have made an excellent base if he'd been given a layout of the building. It didn't much matter now however, the unconscious but most certainly pissed off Meredith Hemmings still lurked inside. Roland somehow doubted she'd be pleased to see him again.

Stupid, stupid bitch. Why didn't I kill her? I had full right to. I could've just killed her, they wouldn't have objected.. or maybe they... whatever. Let her sit alone and bore her reflection to death with her- her, horrible poems or whatever the shit she does for fun. She's not my problem anymore, I don't need to waste my valuable time thinking about some spazz who can't focus under pressure.

Roland still felt guilt resonate within him, but he pushed it down. He knew Meredith' chances of survival, especially coupled with such a terrible weapon and scatterbrained decision making, were nil. Within the next few days, she'd be dead. And Roland, her only real chance at survival was walking away.

She attacked me. It doesn't matter if I know her or not, she lost her chance then and there. Dwelling on the matter any more is stupidity. What you NEED to be thinking about is how you're going to get off this godforsaken rock...

Roland scratched his chin in thought, looking out in the distance. He could see a Ferris Wheel and some brightly colored shacks nearby. He cocked his eyebrow in momentary confusion before he put two and two together.

Ah. House of Mirrors, Carnival.

The Carnival... That'd be a good enough place to start searching. My Team isn't going to get far with some fancy cutlery and a shiv-trumpet. We need some firepower. Christ, I wonder if anyone got dropped with a M16? Maybe even an M4... Does anyone at Bayview even know how to operate firearms? Fuck, I'm the Military Kid with a hard-on for the Marine Corps and the most I've fired is a Benelli...

Better than some people at least. More likely to break your wrist rather than blow someones' brains out if you don't know what you're doing. Would half the people at Bayview even know how to load a gun? I wonder if they get dropped with a manual or if that fat fuck lets them figure it out on their own... Hmm. Best consider everyone armed and dangerous until intent can be proven.

Kronwall. Kronwall- yes- Nik, Nik knows how to fire a gun. Would he snap or could he keep his head? Or is he already dead? Does he even have a gun on him? Anyone else? Alex. She can't shoot for shit, or at all... but damn, she's useful. Yes. If I could find someone like them, or them. That would be ideal.


Roland found himself nervous thinking of Alex. He'd had enough trouble with Isabel earlier, who he had only a passing acquaintance with. Hell, he hated that goth bitch Meredith and he couldn't even bring himself to kill her. What if Alex attacked him, someone he was actually good friends with?

This is what Danya wants. Push it away Roland, you've got a Team now, and a job. A team that needs some new recruits.

He looked back to see the pair emerge into the daylight. He smiled at them and adjusted the pack on his back.

"Alright. We need some more people if we ever hope to be successful here. My bet is someone is kicking about in the Carnival, maybe even a group with similar intent. Looks to be a good place to start. Stay low just incase, try not to make any movement and follow my lead."

((Roland Harte continued in Break Up And Break Down))

V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
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