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D-Day
Topic Started: Aug 8 2010, 10:27 AM (8,413 Views)
Rocky
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((G001 Bridget Connolly Start))

"Ms. Connolly, could you please give us your presentation now?"

Bridget stood up nervously, cue cards in hand. She had been preparing for this moment for the last month or more, but regardless the butterflies in her stomach wouldn't give in. It wasn't like it was the first time she ever did a speech. The topic wasn't even that hard.

"Good morning, my name is Bridget Connolly. If I may, I would like to take you back in time, to the 1940's. Imagine yourself, a young man freshly recruited into the military. Basic training was complete and utter hell, but you know that the worst is yet to come. You have been on active duty for no more than a couple months. Then the day comes. June 6, 1944. What would be known around the world as D-Day.

"Your in one of the lead landing crafts. Your commanding officer is yelling final instructions over the roar of the engine and the pounding water on the side of the vessel. You can see the beach in front of you. All is quiet, until finally the hellish sound of gun fire erupts from the cliffs ahead. You're ordered out of your landing craft into the water..."

-----------

Bridget Connolly woke with a start, her arm soaked by the water. She was lying face down on a beach, the sun slowly crawling up the horizon. The waves slowly lapped up the coast, each wave bringing the water farther away from the red haired girl. With a groan, she rolled away from the water, bringing herself into an upright position.

Her head hurt like a bitch, which was probably the last lingering effects of the multiple gassings over the short period of time. Flashes of what had occurred popped into her mind. The bus, chatting about god knows what with her best friend Raina, the dark room with the menacing people, the voice on the PA system. She had felt the urge to cry when their teachers were brutally and heartlessly slaughtered, but she had manage to keep her composure.

Bridget had always thought Survival of the Fittest was fake. Her sister Megan was in love with the show, although Bridget had always just rolled her eyes when it was on the TV. She didn't see the appeal of watching innocent people ruthlessly slaughtering each other. Now that she was here however, everything she saw was held in a different light. She silently hoped that Megan had grown out of that phase, thought she highly doubted it.

The redhead looked at her surroundings. There wasn't much to see, just sand, water, and a couple packs close by. One she recognized as her messenger bag, where she kept some spare clothes and toiletries. The other was foreign to her, a large duffel bag with "G001" stitched on the side. How did the saying go again? First is the worst? Of course, numbers mean shit in the end. It was just a way for the people running this... game to keep track of them. With a sigh, Bridget grabbed the pack, unzipping it and rummaging through it's contents.

There wasn't much in the bag, just some food which wouldn't last very long, along with a sparse supply of water, a basic first aid kit, a book titled "Danya's Guide to Survival", which Bridget promptly threw into the ocean, and what she presumed was her weapon. Pulling out the object by one end, she looked at the nunchaku. In the hands of someone who was trained in the weapon, it would be highly effective. Bridget was not that person. She decided to keep it anyways, tucking it into the belt of her pants.

This was just fucked up. There was no two ways to put it. As much as she didn't want to believe that no one would willingly kill another person, there was already three seasons of this fucked up game to prove otherwise. Bridget was prepared to do what it took to defend herself, but she was going to follow the creed of her dojo. Only fight when necessary, flight when it was possible. She just didn't know how long she would be able to stick to that. Only time would tell.
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Bridget's head snapped when she heard someone calling out to her. She had recognized the voice, and her body relaxed somewhat. She had taken a few classes with Kimberly in the past, most recently in History. The redhead smiled and waved at the other girl, picking up her bags and breaking into a light jog towards her. Stopping just in front of Kimberly, she resisted the urge to hug her. She didn't want to unintentionally spook her.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she found it ironic that Kimberly was the first one she met with on the island. Both of their families had moved to the States to avoid conflict, Kimberly's from Vietnam, Bridget's from Ireland. Yet here they were, thrown into a situation where the only way to survive was to fight, or die. She didn't have any intention of doing that though. Kimberly was safe, she could be trusted. At least she hoped.

"Good morning." Bridget said somewhat ironically. "This is a bit of an interesting situation huh?"

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Bridget let out a small laugh as Kimberly talked. It was a forced one, but she felt the need to do so, to keep the atmosphere light. Bayview was a peaceful school, for the most part, and while Bridget honestly hoped that Kimberly was right, and that no one would kill each other, she had her doubts. People get scared. Accidents happen. The scariest thought however, was that people can change. When put into a high stress situation, the pressure could be too much for some of them to handle. Some of them might gleefully kill others. It was hard to see into someone's mind.

She didn't share any of these thoughts with Kimberly. Kimberly seemed to have convinced herself that everything was going to be okay, and Bridget didn't want to ruin that for her. A breeze picked up, sending a shiver up the redhead's arm, reminding her that it was wet. She should probably take care of that. She placed her bags on the ground.

For a brief second, Bridget hesitated before removing her tops, revealing a plain white bra underneath, peeling the red t-shirt from the longer black shirt. She worked quickly, but there was a long enough interval that Kimberly would probably see the various scars she had on her body from her parkour. Quickly she put the t-shirt back on, leaving her arms exposed. Tossing the black shirt into the duffel bag, she shouldered her bags again.

"Sorry," she said to Kimberly. "Probably should have warned you I was going to do that."
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Bridget was glad that Kimberly didn't freak out or something when she had removed her top. The last thing she needed was to freak out a potential ally, although someone who got weirded out by something so trivial probably wouldn't be one you'd want to stick around with anyways. Bridget waited patiently for the Vietnamese girl to look at the map, probably trying to figure out where they should go next.

The redheaded girl was about to answer Kimberly's question, but was interrupted by another boy in their class cracking a cynical joke. Bridget once again forced a laugh, admiring the boy's courage for just walking up on two (kind of) armed people and cracking a joke.

"Oh? I bet it was a riot." Bridget countered, cracking a genuine smile. She was so glad that everyone she was meeting was so... normal. No one was acting like anything was wrong. No gun wielding maniacs in site. Just her, Kimberly, Wise-cracking... what was his name? "I'm going to sound like an idiot for this, cause I know I've seen you around, but what's your name again?"
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"Oh, my name is Bridget. Connolly that is. Not that there are other Bridgets around here."

Bridget couldn't have been in a better mood at that moment. Everything was going without a hitch. Kimberly and Steve were chatting about where they should go next. They kept mentioning something about a boat, which they seemed really excited about. Bridget wasn't so sure it was the greatest idea. Surely there was a limit to how far they could go? Plus, she highly doubted they would have left any boats.

"Guys, I hate to rain on your parade, but I don't think there'd be any boats around." the redhead pulled out her map, opening it up and trying to figure out where they were. There were a few beaches on the island, but judging from the rising sun, they were on the east side. Speaking of the sun...

"We should probably go somewhere with shelter. I don't know about you two, but me and the sun, we ain't.... very.... friendly." Bridget had been turning around while speaking, trailing off when she noticed they were no longer by themselves. Bridget kind of knew the girl standing before them, enough to know she went by Kris. Under normal circumstances, she'd have greeted the girl with open arms, but there was one small issue this time around. Namely the position of her hand, and what it was near.

"Umm, hey Kris." Bridget said, subtly shifting her weight into a more balanced stance. She hoped nothing bad would happen, but if something did, then she would have to make sure she was ready to act in case Kris turned out to be... well not friendly. She didn't look like she was having nearly a good time as her little trio was. "Are you okay?"
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Then tension building up in the air was almost palpable. What Bridget had thought was an innocent question had started more than she had anticipated. Kris's actions were just a bit too deliberate to ignore. Steve's question hadn't help the situation much either. Almost out of instinct, Bridget looked at the bag as it was in motion. The redhead's eyes widened as she noticed the writing on the bag. G009-Reika Ishida.

"Why... why do you have someone else's bag?" Bridget asked quite deliberately. This was one of those situations where you didn't try to put things lightly. Kris was standing in front of them, acting defensively, with a gun and someone else's bag. It didn't take long for Bridget to jump to a conclusion, but she stayed her hand momentarily. Maybe it had just been a mix up? The group running this weren't exactly nice about dropping people off, who's to say the bags didn't get the same treatment.

Just stay calm. Bridget said to herself. Only act when you are in danger. Don't instigate anything.
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Things had gone south faster than Bridget had anticipated. Something set off Kris, causing her to pull her gun. The redhead tensed, glancing at Steve, who had apparently set the skater off, judging by the fact her eyes were firmly planted on him. Something had to happen to end this situation. Fast. Bridget's first instinct was to just rush Kris and hope she didn't shoot, but rational thought told her that wasn't a good idea. New plan.

"Kris, no one is going to hurt you." Bridget very deliberately placing her bag on the ground in front of her, as well as the nunchucks she had stuffed into her belt. With nothing hindering her any more, the Irish girl raised her hands. "I'm going to walk towards you now, okay? I don't want you to freak out or anything." That said, she took the first step forward.

Slowly, deliberately, Bridget moved forward. "Kris, this doesn't have to end bad." Each step took her a little bit closer to the girl. She stopped after a few steps, not wanting to push her luck too much. At least the distance between them was a bit smaller. "We won't hurt you. I promise." Another step forward. Slowly, didn't need to set off a potentially bloody situation. Just needed to get Kris to drop the gun. "Just put away the gun, and we can talk it out."
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Too far. Kris was too far away. Even if Bridget had made the attempt to stop what was about to happen, it'd have been too late. The distance was too great, even without the sand to hinder her. All she could do was watch in horror. A pull of the trigger, the report of the gun, and then blood. It took a moment for Bridget to register just what had gone on, but by the time she did, Kris had run off.

Blood was pouring out of Kimberly's shoulder. There was so much. Kimberly needed help. So much blood. Bridget tried to move towards her, to try and help her, but her feet weren't moving. They were refusing, stubbornly glued to the soft sand. This is not the time to get freaked out by the sight of blood! she mentally berated herself. You're stronger than this! You've seen blood before! No matter what Bridget told herself, she wouldn't move. Sure, she had seen blood before, usually her own, but never in this quantity. And certainly never from a gun shot wound.

Let's go, Bridget! Get over it! Move. Your. Feet. The red haired girl took a timid step forward, coinciding with Kimberly's plea of help. That finally snapped her out of whatever she had gotten herself in. Freaking out could wait. Someone needed help. Bridget dashed to Kimberly's side, practically sliding on the sand. Frantically grabbing the first day pack, which happened to be Kimberly's she ripped it open and located the first aid kit.

One thing was painfully obvious as soon as she opened the kit. She had no clue what she was doing. Everything in the box was so foreign to her. Bridget recognized a few things from her own injuries, but she still had no clue what she was doing. "Shit..." she said audibly without realizing, trying to figure out what to do. What was it they always say to do? You gotta stop the bleeding or something.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I have no fucking clue what I'm doing." Bridget said to the frantic girl. Every second that passed, the girl lost more blood. Without even thinking, the redhead frantically pressed on top of the wound with her bare hands, trying to stop the bleeding any way she could. Of course, what she didn't know was that she was going about it all wrong. "Dammit Kimberly, you better not die on us here."
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(GMing approved by KillerVole)

Bridget was trying desperately to stop the bleeding using only her hands, to no avail. Kimberly just kept bleeding. So much blood. On her hands. No! Now is not the time! mentally berating herself, Bridget pressed harder. Steve had torn off the sleeve, giving the duo a better look at the wound. Blood was gushing out in tiny spurts from the finger sized hole in her shoulder. There had to be something they could do to sto-"Fuck!" Bridget exclaimed, pulling her arms back. Kimberly had hit her hand with a fairly large rock, hard enough that there was probably going to be a decent bruise on her hand. Nothing was broken though thankfully.

"What the hell Kim!" Bridget screamed at the girl, who was still flailing wildly. Each time she swung the rock, the flow of blood increased, which was increasing in volume due to the fact that no pressure was being applied on the wound. "Stop moving, you're just making it worse!" Kimberly seemed to be ignoring Bridget's request, still trying to hit her with the rock. There was only one thing left to do.

"Steve, I'm going to need you to deal with the wound." was all Bridget said before springing into action. Kimberly took another swing, and this time the red head was able to catch the wild swing by the girl's wrist. "Stop... moving!" with a quick wrench of Kimberly's wrist, Bridget forced the rock out of the frantic girl's hand, the improvised weapon tumbling back into sand. 7 years of training guided Bridget's actions, forcing the other girl's arm back into a basic key lock, putting just enough pressure on Kimberly's elbow joint to stop the movement. The injured shoulder remained free, which would allow Steve to move in and treat the wound.

"I'm sorry, just don't move. I don't want to hurt you, but if you struggle you'll just make it worse on yourself." Bridget's tone was firm, and she just hoped that Kimberly would come to her senses.
Edited by Rocky, Aug 14 2010, 08:24 PM.
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Things weren't getting much better, but at least Kimberly had stopped moving. Steve apparently chose this time to start freaking out, moaning about how they were all going to die, and that there was nothing they could do. Bridget was about to say something to the boy, but was interrupted by the rather sudden arrival of Sarah Xu. Sarah immediately began to take control of the situations, throwing out commands left and right.

"Kim, I'm going to let go of your arm." Bridget said, preparing to move into the position Sarah had told her to. "But if you try to attack us again, I won't be so nice about it." Her piece having been said, the redhead's hold on Kimberly's arm was released, and Bridget's blood soaked hands raised the injured girl's torso off the ground, and she quickly slid herself underneath, resting Kimberly's head on her lap.

Brushing the other girl's hair out of her face, Bridget couldn't help but feel for the girl. Her face was contorted in pain, and God knows how much longer she would be able to stay conscious. Almost out of instinct, the Irish girl grasped Kimberly's good hand reassuringly, vaguely aware of the fact the girl's blood had tinted her hand red. "It's going to be okay."
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Where had all these people come from? First it had just been Sarah, and she was fine with that, but almost as quickly a bunch of other people had arrived, most likely following Sarah. Bridget wasn't sure how she felt having so many people around, especially if any of them tried to take command of the situation, or at this point, even came close to them. Kimberly was still showing signs of life, giving the redhead's hand a reassuring squeeze. The pressure seemed to be getting to Sarah, who continued to work on patching up the injured girl through her tears. Bridget wished she had an extra hand at that point to give her a comforting pat on the shoulder, but with one hand in the firm grasp of Kimberly's good hand, and the other cradling her head, she could only use words.

She didn't get a chance to however, before another boy came up, telling Sarah he had her shield. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Bridget snapped. Something about this boy just rubbed her the wrong way. "You're going to come up here, while my friend is injured from a fucking gun shot, and all you can think of is to make sure someone had a fucking shield? Bridget's little tirade was interrupted as the boy ran off to the foot of the ocean and cleaned his face off.

Bridget sighed, trying to calm herself down. She didn't want to scare Kimberly, who was no doubt not in the state of mind for loud outbursts right now. She looked at the Vietnamese girl's pained face, wishing that she could do more to help, that she wasn't so useless. Sarah was still crying, but still doing an admiral job at stopping the bleeding. Bridget wanted to say something to make her feel better, but there was nothing she could say. Nothing was going to be alright. What could she say? Keep your chin up, you're not dead yet?

Once again, Bridget's attempts to think of a way to console Sarah was interrupted by the same guy, this time asking if he can do anything. "Yes." Bridget said before anyone else could answer. "You can stop being an annoying fucking twat and know when you're not needed. So I suggest you use those legs of yours to fuck off before I render you unable to do so." The redhead's eyes told more than her words. If Jason was still there by the time she was able to move away from Kimberly, he would not enjoy the remainder of his time on the island.
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Jason had decided to take someone's advice for once and left, which Bridget was thankful for. As soon as he was gone, Bridget focused back to Kimberly, and thus she hadn't noticed when Steve or Brendan slipped away. They weren't important after all. She just wanted to make sure Kimberly was okay. The wound seemed to be bleeding less, which was great. The Vietnamese girl was also moving her hand in such a way that Bridget knew to let go. She didn't want to, that simple action had been as much comfort to her as it had been for the other girl, but she relinquished her grip, her hand falling to her side.

Kimberly then tried to stand up, which at this point was a bad idea. Sarah hadn't fully finished treating the wound, and any unnecessary movement right now wouldn't help matters. Bridget firmly placed her hand on Kimberly's shoulder, not hard enough to actually stop her if she really wanted to stand, but enough that Kimberly was able to get the message.

"Don't move." The redhead said to the injured girl. "Sarah still needs to put the bandages on." Bridget glanced at Sarah, who looked like a mess, but still doing the job admirably. The Irish girl took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She needed to be strong, for the sake of everyone. No one was going to get hurt as long as she was around. Not if she could help it.
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People were yelling. Yelling and screaming at eachother, for one reason or another, and Bridget didn't care in the slightest. She was lost on her own world, hands on Kimberly's shoulders, watching as Sarah began to put the final touches on the wound. That was all she could do right now was just watch. On the sidelines. Helpless. Bridget wasn't a medic, or particularly good at consoling people. She was a fighter, both with her fists and her words. Ever since she was very young, that was all she had. Bridget the fighter. Bridget the debator. Bridget the tactition. Bridget this, Bridget that, always something about fighting.

Bridget was a fighter. And that's what she would do. She would fight. Never again would she hesitate like she did on this God-forsaken beach. Her actions would be swift and decisive. In another time, another place, she might have held mercy for those she would encounter in the next however many days. Now, there would be none. One of the mantras used by her dojo was to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Well, she failed that one once already. Never again though.

Bridget was snapped out of her own world by Kimberly asking for her fedora, which Bridget was more than happy to do so. She briefly considered whether or not she should place it on the girl's head, but decided against it, instead giving it to her good arm. Her arm which was her only good arm because of Bridget's short comings. The arm which would still be just an arm if not for Bridget's lack of insight. The redhead clenched her fists, every thought passing through her conscious convincing herself that everything was her fault. She felt like screaming.

"Kimberly... I'm sorry..." she said quietly, her voice wavering ever so slightly. "If I had been quicker then none of this would have happened." Bridget then took a deep breath before continuing. "I promise to never let it happen again. Even if it costs me my life."
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Bridget listened as Kimberly told them her plans. She didn't say anything at first, mulling it over in her head. Kimberly was clearly angry, and by the tone of her voice, Bridget could tell she was serious. She wanted to find Kris, and stop her. This made the redhead stop and really think about their situation. Up until now she had spent it worrying too much about Kimberly to even think of revenge, or stopping others from killing. Now that she knew the other girl was out of immediate danger, she was able to think.

Kimberly wanted to stop Kris, but she was hurt. She would probably need help. She had already failed once, and she didn't plan on failing to protect someone again. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she didn't like it. Never the less, they shouldn't get separated.

"I'm with you." Bridget said to Kimberly. "We need to stick together, so wherever you go, I go." After a moment or two, an idea popped into her head. If they were going to hunt down someone who was armed and dangerous, they would need some firepower of their own. "We should probably find some weapons of our own. What we got right now isn't going to help us much. We should also probably move somewhere a bit safer." she looked to Sarah to see what she had to say about this.
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Bridget watched as everything seemed to start going to hell again. Sarah had finished treating Kimberly, which was great, but then she broke down into a tearful fit. She didn't know why, but the redhead couldn't exactly blame her. This whole situation was fucked up. At the same time, standing around and pitying themselves wasn't going to get them anywhere. Dutchy was trying to comfort Sarah, but he too looked on the verge of tears.

Now that she no longer needed to support Kimberly, Bridget was able to stand. She didn't know how long she'd been on the ground, but one of her legs had fallen asleep. The feeling slowly returned to her leg, and she winced as the pins and needles worked their way down the limb. Looking at her companions, she knew in her mind that nothing was going to get done unless someone made it happen.

"Alright, we need to get moving." Bridget said with all the authority she could muster in her voice. "I know things are tough, but we aren't going to get anything done by sitting here and pitying ourselves. Everyone grab your bags." walking over to Sarah, Bridget grasped under her arms firmly, and brought the sobbing girl to her feet. Leaning in towards her, she whispered in her ear so no one else could hear what she said. "You need to stay strong. People look up to you. If anyone can lead us to safety, it's you."

Pulling away from the girl, Bridget grabbed her belongings, pulling out her map and compass. She wasn't the greatest outdoorsman in the world, but it wasn't hard to determine where they were on the island. Kimberly needed to get better treatment, so the clinic was their best bet at that point. Once everyone had gathered their things, Bridget began to walk, finally leaving the beach. If she never returned again, it'd be too soon.

((Bridget Connolly continued in Dimer))
Edited by Rocky, Oct 15 2010, 05:24 PM.
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