Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Survival of the Fittest, a RPing board loosely based off of Koshun Takami's Battle Royale, with its own unique plot and spin on the 'deadly game'. We've been around quite a while, and are now in our thirteenth year, so don't worry about us going anywhere any time soon!

If you're a newcomer and interested in joining, then please make sure you check out the rules. You may also want to read the FAQ, introduce yourself and stop by the chat to meet some of our members. If you're still not quite sure where to start, then we have a great New Member's Guide with a lot of useful information about getting going. Don't hesitate to PM a member of staff (they have purple usernames) if you have any questions about SOTF and how to get started!

Let the games begin!

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
D-Day
Topic Started: Aug 8 2010, 10:27 AM (8,166 Views)
chitoryu12
Member Avatar
Leader
[ *  *  * ]
B0052 Start

As a loud bang echoed down the surf, Christopher Carlson experienced a sensation of awakening like he never had before.

The first thing that came to him was light. As his eyelids fluttered open, all he could see was a blinding whiteness that burned to the end of his optic nerve. His eyes shut on instinct, replacing the white with a kind of smeared red that still made him ache.

Then there was the headache. It was pounding like a double-bass drum in his brain. He groaned and rolled over, the multicolored lights flashing in his skull replaced with comforting black. The headache slowly began to fade; the ground felt wet and gritty.

He tried opening his eyes again, finding himself face down and staring at a sheet of gray, soggy sand. His head tilted upward, and while the glare of the sun made it a painful experience, he could clearly see a stretch of wet, gritty, rocky sand.

His hands nearly failed him as he tried to push himself up. He was weak, tired; he just wanted to go back to sleep. Somehow, he managed to push himself up into a sitting position and look around.

As he took in the rest of his view, he rubbed his head, his hand continuing to travel down the back of his neck. Suddenly, it froze. There was a strange, smooth surface beneath his fingertips.

Shiiiiiit

He suddenly remembered. The shooting. The kidnapping. The video. The gas. The laughter.

Survival of the Fittest.

A sudden rush of adrenaline sent him scrambling to get to his feet. His head whipped around, and he could very faintly see several figures in the distance. Apparently, they hadn't spotted him.

He didn’t know much about SOTF, but he did know that he had a bag with some equipment in it. He began scanning the ground around him, and sure enough there was a large black duffel bag. B052 was stenciled in white on it. “So I’m just a fucking number for the audience now, eh?” he muttered to himself. He quickly snatched up the pack and, spotting a patch of thin grass, hefted it and ducked behind the foliage.

Chris knelt next to his pack and unzipped it, hands groping through the shadowy innards. The first thing he pulled out was a map and a compass, which he tossed on the sand next to him. Next were a few bottles of water, some stale-feeling loaves of bread, and a cold tin can. He twisted the top off, and was assaulted by the bready smell of crackers. Not exactly a nutritionally-balanced meal, but perhaps part of this complete breakfast. Below that was a red plastic flashlight. At least he wouldn't be stumbling around in the dark.

At the very bottom, his hand touched something cold and metallic. His heart raced; a gun? A knife?

As his hand came out of the pack, his hopes dropped. He was holding a gleaming pair of brass knuckles. It was a step up from being unarmed, but he figured that a few dozen kids would be four or five steps up. He was a good shot and familiar with a wide range of firearms, though he never actually fired real bullets at anything and was stuck with practicing with his BB rifle in his backyard. If he had even a pocket pistol, he would have been a force to be reckoned with.

Still, he at least had something. At least he wasn’t trying to whack people with a rubber ducky. He slipped his fingers through the metal rings and clenched his fist around the curved back. He lightly tapped his knuckles against his palm, feeling the cold press of brass against his flesh. He recalled a Youtube video he had seen once of a drunk somewhere in Russia accosting a passerby and getting knuckleduster to the head twice. He remembered how one punch was enough to send the man sprawling.

Chris quickly wiped some sand off his glasses and peered at the party down the beach. He could see that one of them appeared to be on the ground. Was someone hurt?

He wasn't taking any chances with this one. He would be playing it as safe as possible. He quickly tossed his supplies back in his pack, shouldered it, and ran slightly up the beach into the tall grass bordering the sand. He crept down through his cover, occasionally looking over the grass and out toward the rest of the island to spot anyone sneaking up on him.
Characters for v4

Christopher Carlson: B052
Weapons: Brass knuckles


Jake Crimson: B084 (Adopted)
Weapons: Cinderblock

Characters for v5

Clayton Leven: B050
Weapons: Handcuffs

Shit people say

Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
chitoryu12
Member Avatar
Leader
[ *  *  * ]
Chris slowly stalked through the brush, the tall grass making attempts to stick to his bare forearms. He was starting to itch, but he was afraid that scratching would blow his cover.

He managed to get right behind the group on the beach, still crouched in his camouflage. He tried to spy them through his planty cover, but couldn't recognize anyone. At the very least, he couldn't see their faces clearly enough. One of them was on the ground, and he could clearly see crimson blood splashed on the sand and rocks below.

He was about to break out and walk up to them, but the redheaded chick started shouting her head off at a guy who walked up and tried to help. Whoever these people are, they weren't too friendly. Especially the Irish one.

Slower than a sleepwalking slug, Chris picked his way out of the beach and into the trees. In a bit, he'd find somewhere to rest and read his map.


((Chris has left his backpack from the trip on the beach. It contains several bags of Chex Mix, his iPod and Nintendo DS, extra clothes, toiletries, and the last two Harry Potter novels. This bag is free for anyone to grab at the moment if they find it.))
((Christopher Carlson continued in Don't go breaking my heart...))
Characters for v4

Christopher Carlson: B052
Weapons: Brass knuckles


Jake Crimson: B084 (Adopted)
Weapons: Cinderblock

Characters for v5

Clayton Leven: B050
Weapons: Handcuffs

Shit people say

Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you
« Previous Topic · The Beach: East · Next Topic »
Add Reply