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Flowerhead; B025 Start
Topic Started: Aug 8 2010, 10:44 PM (3,538 Views)
MK Kilmarnock
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Wake up, Liam.

Wake up, you're going to be late for school, and you have to work after! You can't get detentions!

Come on, now, the bus is almost here, get up!


Liam "Brook" Brooks, Male Student No. 025 Start

Brook squinted his eyelids shut. They felt heavy, but dry and itchy all at the same time. His back ached. His legs felt cramped. His ribs were a bit sore, and worst of all, his hair seemed tangled beyond belief. His bed was lumpy as hell, and whatever his mother was cooking... well, it didn't stand up to the breakfast of previous mornings. In fact... nothing stood up to anything of the previous mornings. Something was terribly wrong.

With a groan on his lips and an audible creaking in his back, Brook sat up with some help and leverage from his arms. All along his legs, through the seat of his pants and up his back, there was an undeniable damn feeling. Where the hell was he? Morning crust still laced his eyes, keeping them shut until Brook took the time to carefully scrape the gunk from them with his fingertips. Giving a ragged breath to hopefully yet futilely combat the cold, dew filled air, Brook opened his eyes to learn the falseness of his dream.

He could only look at the desolate scene for a moment or two before his head bowed. He had not been dreaming. The kidnapping was real, being strapped to that chair while his classmates, friends and foes alike were probably pissing themselves in terror, that was real. His teachers... what happened to some of them... the spattering of blood. When it happened, Brook could have sworn that a drop of it got on him, and the hyperventilation was uncontrollable from that point until...

What happened? Brook had been caught up in the moment to the point where it all just... blacked. He tried to remember the point at which it all went away from him, but was unable to pinpoint it. What was, important, however, was now. Now he was on an island, set to die, unless he could perform a mission simple in concept: kill every other Bayview senior on the island.

Brook's head pressed further into the cold comfort of his hands, a small, whimpering sob coughing up from his throat. He couldn't even fathom killing anybody, much less people that he had gone to school with, and his friends. He clutched at the device strapped around his neck - the device that would force him to obey the sick will of this organization.

I have no choice! No choice! I have to either play the stupid game or... no... there's gotta be something else I can do! Brook lowered his hands, standing up. "My friends... gotta find anybody, they could b-"

The sharp pang of realization pulsed through Brook's mind, fully waking him up to his surroundings and situation. He had to be quiet, and to be careful. He had to find his friends, to be with somebody who could make him feel safe, but words from last night (or was it last night at all? Maybe it was minutes ago, he had no way of telling as it still felt so much like a dream) spoke themselves in his head again.

You can't bring yourself to kill your friends? What if your friends could kill you?

Brook uttered a muffled whimper once more and turned around a full three hundred sixty degrees to get a full look at his surroundings. This area was a sad, sad waste, with trees cut down with reckless abandon... Clear cutting. He always hated the clear cutting method of woodsmanship, but there was no time to argue that now. Seeing a pile of lumber very near to where he had woken up, Brook tucked behind it. His knee brushed up against something, which upon closer observation was revealed to be the daypack that the terrorists had told him about.

He hurriedly sifted through it. There had to be something, anything he could use. Flashlight, first aid kid, water... everything that he had been told about. His groping hand felt something... cold and metal. He pulled his hand out with the heavy object to reveal a small, home-made looking gun.

"Oh... oh god..."
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B046 - Jason Harris Start

Jason Harris had been thinking and he had been thinking for an awfully long while. After waking up in the middle of the logged forest he had sat upright and thought for about a minute. Grabbing his duffel bag he had pulled out his weapon. A strange 5 cylindered gun and held on to it while hoisting the duffel bag awkwardly over his shoulder. Looking around he had moved to the nearest 'safe' location. A pile of logs braced up against a tree. Here he had kept an eye out while he mulled things over.

Firstly he accepted he was stuck in this 'game' and therefore had to come up with a solution to survive. Secondly that the likelihood of escape would be very slim. Jason might be called an idealist, but he was a rational idealist and that meant dealing with reality. He had food and water, light, a map and compass and a; he flicked briefly through the manual in the bag; H&K P11. So the next thing to do would be to establish a home base, find shelter and group up with friends. He needed to play smart, play safe and above all not make and stupid mistakes.

Thinking hard he wished he had paid more attention to previous versions. He knew some students had been carrying unorthodox weapons but he couldn't remember what. He needed to make sure he was prepared. Staring down at the map he tried to familiarise himself with the island. Placing a small pen mark at where he hazarded his current location was he did some quick math. There were about 250 students on the trip. Given the size of the island, and the distribution there was likely someone close by.

Jason paused for a second, touching on the thin band of metal. The collar around his neck didn't bother him, but he knew he should be acutely aware of the danger of the item. Be careful of danger zones. He should head south. Towards the city centre. There would be more people there, but better places to hold out, to plan with others and to stay safe just in case.

His thoughts flickered to his friends and... Erin. Thank god Erin hadn't been on the trip, having to look after her dad she had cancelled at the last moment, but his friends were around. Brook, Nathan, Sierra, Kaine, Maf. He should find them first. None of them would be on a rampage, and he was pretty sure he could trust them. If he couldn't he was screwed anyway, so may as well make that assumption.

Jason shook his head. Stupid mistake. Don't make assumptions. Verify first.

Speaking out loud to himself Jason mentally checked off his to do list. "Move carefully and slowly south." He held up one finger. "Watch out for anyone I come across. Talk if they look smart or friendly, avoid if they are dangerous." Another finger went up. "Find my friends." A third. "Hole up in the city centre in a strong location and figure out a plan."

Grabbing his pack Jason nodded to himself, tearing a small chunk of bread and taking a swig of the water. No sense in being dehydrated or hungry and given the events of the previous versions there would be enough supplies around to last his 'stay' on the island.

---

Moving southward he heard the familiar voice of a friend.

"Oh..oh god.."

Jason couldn't help but smile. That was Brook. That son of a bitch was right next to him.

Jason mentally checked himself, remembering his mantra.

"Play Smarter, not harder."

Heading over to the voice he saw the form of Brook tucked in next to a pile of logs, looking at a small object in his hands. Jason froze for a second and then took a gulp as butterflies rushed through his stomach. In fact it was eerily similar to all those times he *nearly* had asked Erin out.

"Ok man, you can do this."

Breathing deeply Jason tentatively moved so he was somewhat obscured by a tree, and hopefully protected in case Brook did something a little... unexpected. He knew that his good mate wasn't liable to shoot anyone but Brook didn't exactly cope well with stress and this was a *very* stressful situation. He called out in what he hoped was a relaxed voice.

"Hey Brook, mate, it's me Jason."



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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MK Kilmarnock
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No sooner than Brook had picked up the shabby yet ominous weapon from his daypack, a voice had called out to him. Before that, he wasn't sure if the silence was the most unwelcome part about the atmosphere. Its shattering held jarring results that might've been comparable to the unsettling feeling wrenching his guts to pieces, if all that slow tear on his mind and will had been condensed into a pane of glass that had now shattered.

The next second and a half felt nearly all the muscles in one particular boy's body lock up, practically tied up in knots. What was that? What was that, what was that, what was that, what was that!!!!? His head was the first part of his body to regain movement, at which point it jerked around to look in the direction of the offending voice. The rest of his body was quick to follow, his hand having already slipped into position on the small firearm. It was somebody coming to get him, had to be, for the words themselves no longer held any meaning. Any voice was a sign of somebody else near, and anybody else near was out to kill him. They had to be.

His arm was shaking, sweat was pouring out of his palms like faucets, and the gun now might as well have weighed as much as the heaviest dumbell in the gym. Even so, the gun was poised to shoot, his hand clenched on the grip so tight that his knuckles were white.

Easy...

Brook gulped, reaching with his left hand to wipe some hair out of his face; when he woke up, his hair tie had been missing. That voice... he was now trying to take it apart, analyze it as his eyes darted back and forth, trying to see who had called to him. It was somebody he knew.

Of course it is. It's one of your friends. You wanted to find them, they found you. Put the gun down.

One eye was clenched shut. He was far too scared to shut them both, but too confused to keep them both open. If he slipped up here, he was dead, his blood spilled out onto the ground and spattered on the logs. He couldn't have... have that. Who... who was there?

You couldn't listen to any of the words, you were so scared, but you know them... things are going to be alright, just stay calm. You can't kill anybody, they can't you. You're just kids.

And kids don't kill each other.


All of this had happened in the space of just a few seconds. As short as it was, Brook's wild internal rambling, waving of a gun, and frantic searching of something he couldn't possibly find in such a state had taken more than enough time for somebody to put a bullet in his brain or bury a hatchet into his skull. Yet he was still in once piece. His heart was not ready to let up, however. His heartbeat was as heavy and grueling as his breathing, and his arm remained rigid, the finger on the trigger. His eyes made a final slow sweep, settling on a sole unfelled tree, and a shape just barely visible behind it. Connected to the shape was a face and, while only a fraction of it was visible, it was enough to still jostle Brook, yank him from the current of hostility.

"J... Jason... it's you!"

His brain retrospectively heard the words as they replayed once more. He should've recognized that Aussie accent instantly, from all the ribbing he had done on it. It was the only thing that remained from a more peaceful world of balance, now thrust into chaos. "Oh god, I can't.... I can't believe..." Brook lowered the gun one inch, somewhat apologetically. Two inches. His entire arm went limp and fell to his side, with only his slightly curled fingers keeping the light firearm from dropping. He continued to stare in disbelief at a sign of solace, one that he thought he couldn't possibly receive, until he was unable to any longer. Falling to his knees, Brook tucked his head under his arm and began to cry once more.

"Ho-holy sh... shit, dude..." Brook choked and sniffed, shaking his head.
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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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In movies there's always that moment when the gun is pulled and everything seems to slow down. That brief muzzle flash that denotes the turning point of the movie, the death of a major character. When Jason stared down the barrel of Brook's pistol that is exactly how he felt. His heart rate seemed to slow almost to a stop and everything went quiet, all he could hear was the sharp intake of his breath. Everything was so sharp, he could see the beads of sweat running down Brook's head and the ever slight movement of bark crumbling from the long dead trees. In that moment Jason felt as if he was going to die with absolute certainty.

Brook lowered the gun and collapsed.

Exhaling Jason was pulled back to reality, everything shimmered for a second and returned to normal, no amazing details, no slow motion movement, just him and a broken friend.

Jason frowned and stepped towards Brook. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with the situation in front of him. Brook had rarely cried, if ever and Jason didn't exactly have the crib notes for how to comfort someone in this situation. So Jason did what he thought was closest, first aid shock treatment. Bending over near Brook Jason awkwardly put his arm over his friend's shoulder and patted him. He didn't know what to say, so said the first thing that came in to his mind.

"Cheer up emo kid."

Jason stifled a laugh. The whole thing was preposterous but humour was great to snap people out of shock. Hopefully it would ease Brook's nerves. Looking up and checking to see if no one was coming

"Suppose you could say this is a... killer school trip." The Australian paused and cocked his head, smiling ever so slightly looking down at Brook (something that didn't happen often).

He knew he had to calm Brook down and figured this might be his best bet for now. It was lucky he had stumbled across his friend so early. Things could of been much, much worse, plus they both had guns which meant that they were luckier than most. With Brook watching his back Jason felt at least a little more at ease than he did before.

No.

Focus, be alert.

Even now he couldn't be letting his guard down. He needed to get Brook up on his feet and at least coherent and group up with anyone else who would be willing to work together. Jason had no illusions about getting off the island alive, but damn it if he was going to let his friends die. Things had started to crystallize in his mind. Find his friends and ensure they were the last ones standing, tell them as much as he could and at least one of them could get home and tell their stories to their loved ones. He had no doubt there would be players and many people trying to escape. A fools hope and statistically one that would cause the deaths of those trying. Better to play smart, group up and make sure the one who won deserved it.

"Right mate, first things first we've got to have a plan."

Jason then proceeded to coldly and logically tell Brook his thoughts. He had bottled all his fears and terrors away but he could hear them, scratching and clawing at that closet door in his mind, ready to pounce. If being cold and logical kept them at bay, thats what he would do. Still he could hear them back there.


In the dark.






Waiting.

Edited by Fanatic, Aug 10 2010, 07:27 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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((Debut of B056: Nathan Choultard))

Nathan Choultard woke up and felt like a Raggity Anne doll. He found himself propped up slight on one stump, his ass was on a fallen log and his left leg hung precariously on another stump in the distance. He felt like he had his lights punched out and was only now waking up from his mini-coma.

It took Nathan about five tries to properly sit up, but eventually he found himself sitting on the stump behind him, attempting to massage his very sore back.

Where the hell am I?

He blinked and tried to wipe the sleep out of his eyes when he realized that his glasses were in the way. Nathan paused for a moment staring at his hand. Why would he sleep with his glasses on, who sleeps with their glasses on anyways?

He sat there for a good five minutes just staring at his hand as if it was going to be able to tell him why
he was on a stump in the middle of nowhere. It was then that his memories returned to him.

He was sitting in a chair, tied up and he remembered having to watch...some video something about killing your classmates...and then...

"Holy shit..."

Then he watched as some of his favourite teachers, not to mention the rest of the faculty that chaperoned with them, were all dead...

So now what he was supposed to do...

Nathan looked around and saw that there was a pair of bags to his left. A tan bag with B057 stencilled on and a large duffel bag right next to it. He looked inside the duffel bag first and found inside it...

A pistol with some ammunition and a manual.

So it was all real...

He put his hands to his forehead and sighed. He had always wanted to find a way to be different from his brother and let his parents realize that he wasn't Geoffrey...

He got exactly what he wished for, and he hated it. His hands bunched into fists and he kicked the fallen log in front of him.

"God fucking damn it!"
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B054:Oscar Trig-Smoker, Artist, Film Buff

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MK Kilmarnock
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Cheer up, emo kid.

Brook was so overloaded that, at first, he couldn't even process what Jason had just said. Jason, his friend, probably the closest he ever had at the school. Always there to be an absolute dork, woo the girls with his accent that Brook considered to be an unfair advantage, and to lighten up the mood. He thought that everything would be instantly better as soon as he found one of his friends, and here, Brook had lucked out about as hard as he possibly could. His best friend, right here to keep him company. It hadn't cheered him up one bit.

Brook stifled his sobbing, choking down what tears remained and snorting on a glob of snot in his nose that had loosened in his fit. Swallowing and clearing himself up, he straightened his back and looked up to Jason, though he hadn't the strength to lift himself up off of his knees.

He wasn't just looking at Jason, he was glaring. The gears were finally setting themselves back in place and turning, and the wires finally connected on what Jason just said. Cheer... up? Cheer up!? Just when I think you can't get any dumber... fuck... you stupid, upside-down Aussie FUCK! Brook's jaw had tightened up until his teeth began to strain under the pressure, and his masseter muscles quivered in exertion. At this very moment, his imagination was running without restraint, depicting him beating an exaggeratively emotional Jason with his bare hands, pistol whipping him a few times, and then shooting him.

Jason was looking around, though, not noticing his tantrum. Brook opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was too much of a strained wreck. Or maybe it was his mind? One or the other, he found himself unable to talk, and his mouth shut again with an audible 'clomp'. Could this get any more unbelievable?

Then Jason dropped another pun. The answer to that question was a resounding, kneecap shattering yes.

Brook rose to his feet to stare into the eyes of the other boy, shaking his head. "The hell are you on, sh-shithead!?" Brook growled. The hand that had a grip on the liberator was clenched as tightly as his left; to be completely honest, he had nearly forgotten about it, since the element of danger had been punted into the atmosphere to make way for irritation. "We're on an island, being told by some whackjob to kill each other, we're all sniveling wrecks, and you stand in front of me to make jokes!?" Brook's voice had raised by this point, his arms stretched out to either side of him. "What, you think you're punny or something!? You think this whole thing i-..."

Brook paused, his arms flopping back down to his hips. What was that he just said? ... Punny?

Oh. Oh son. Of. A. Bitch.

The poor boy drooped forward, shaking his head. "I hate you. I hate you so much..." His voice just barely managed to squeeze out the last word before Brook tilted forward, wrapping his arms around Jason in a hug. Jason was the type of guy who, hopefully, would be able to forgive him for all of that. This was just way too much to handle at one point, and he was unable to appreciate the fact that his best friend was, of all the times, putting aside his own tremendous stress to try and cheer him up. And in response, he had selfishly snapped back.

With a ragged sigh, Brook pulled back from Jason, turning in his left arm so he could cough into the crook of his elbow. A good deal of mucus had accumulated from all of his 'emo kid' tantrums, which he managed to dislodge. A bit got on the inside of his sleeve, but Brook caught some of it with his teeth and spat it out. Taking one more long, deep, ribcage displacing breath to get himself set, he looked back up at Jason and adjusted his hair while listening to the boy.

So, they had to find more of their friends, that made sense... strength in numbers. Sure. "I can't... I can't promise I'll be as uplifting as you, okay?" Brook started softly, trying to regain his indoor voice. "But thanks, man... I'll try to be as good to them as you were to me." Brook stared down to the junky little gun in his right hand, then back up to Jason.

"It isn't much... but I think if you give me a moment, I could try and figure it out. I've never actually worked a gun before, so... uh-". Brook was cut off by some sounds. It sounded relatively nearby, and, to his horror, Brook realized that they had to have come from another student.

"Oh god!" He bemoaned at his misfortune, pointing his weapon in the direction of the noise. "Y-You heard that too, huh?"
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It was obvious that Brook wasn't taking the whole thing well, and rightfully so. Despite his best efforts Jason couldn't seem to shake Brook out of his state. Something was going on in the back of the boy's mind that Jason had rarely seen before and despite knowing Brook for the majority of his school life the Australian was worried, he hadn't even smiled a bit.

Still, when Brook embraced him in a hug Jason returned the sentiment. Brook might be in a fragile state at the moment but he was Jason's best friend and there was no way he wasn't going to be there for him, regardless of the circumstances. A thousand thoughts briefly crossed his mind, he did not want to mention searching for Tiffany at this point, it was a dumb idea and one that could get both of them killed, Brook would thank him later when he got off the island and found a nice girl to settle down with. The bloke deserved it. Not to say Tiffany wasn't a nice girl but Brook had some sort of infatuation with her, one which Jason wasn't sure he approved of, despite his reassurances to Brook.

"You'll be right mate. Sorry about that, just thought some humour might lighten the mood." Jason shrugged his shoulders and continued. "You are totally right though, this is some crazy shit and trust me, I'm not as uplifted as you might think, I've just got..."

He paused for a second. There they were again. Scratching at that door in his mind, rattling the knob, threatening to get out.

"Got to keep positive. Anyway, we should look for some people. I'm thinking the track team. Most of the guys there are smart blokes, they won't be pulling any dumb shit. We can rest a while here and you can figure out that pistol."

As Brook responded and looked up to the sound of Nathan kicking the log Jason cursed himself for letting down his guard. Mistakes like that get people killed. Control the situation. Looking at Brook Jason put a finger up to his lips and signaled for his friend to hold the position.

Stepping outwards in what he hoped would be some sort of rudimentary crossfire if whoever it was came in swinging Jason called out.

"Who's out there? We've got you flanked mate, come out, no ones going to be shooting here!"

Jason hoped to god that that whoever was out there would just step in to their field of view and he hoped it was someone friendly. He wasn't sure what Brook would do, but hell, he wasn't sure what he would do. He could only stand and wait.
Edited by Fanatic, Aug 12 2010, 12:28 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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Nathan sat right on top of the log staring down at the freshly kicked log. Maybe if he stared at it long enough it'd turn into ash, or preferably a magical way out, however he found his attempt ended in vain.

He didn't feel sad, he wasn't even sure that he felt angry anymore now that he had vented. Instead, Nathan just felt completely and totally numb. He just sat there, spacing out, hypnotized by the remnants of some hundred year old pine tree that lost it's life, god knew how long ago...

The voice broke him free of his emotional coma and his head perked up in the direction of the voice. It sounded vaguely familiar, but he wasn't really sure. He was flanked? Nathan wasn't really surprised with that, it wasn't like he was alone here. Maybe a group of killers had arrived and were already here, they said they weren't going to shoot, but who knew what would be happening. It was Survival of the Fittest.

Only one way to find out...

He went to his bag and looped it onto his back, maybe it was protect him from a shot from behind, who knew. He gave one final sigh and stood up and walked towards the direction of the initial shout.

To his surprise, it turned out to be Jason Harris of all people that appeared into view. Nathan wanted to be more excited at this, but he still couldn't muster any amount of glee in regards to the fact that one of his friends could be a killer. He continued to walk forward though, hands clutching his straps of his pack as tightly as he could, waiting for the possible death blow.

"Hi Jason..." he said frowning, "It's Nathan..."
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MK Kilmarnock
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Jason was going all alone, by himself. Brook was quick to hush up when his friend put his finger to his lips, but he couldn't stand the tension. Everything had gone so quiet all of a sudden... what if the figure had decided not to come out, to show themselves peacefully? What if they were going to leap out and shoot Jason?

Brook's arm quivered once more as panic began to set in. All he could image at this point was Jason walking around that woodpile, yelling 'freeze' similar to how a police officer would, and then...

The air erupted into pure war as a clap of mechnical-born thunder sounded, then echoed. Something slammed into Jason's chest, lodging directly into his heart and causing bits of skin, flesh, and cartilage to jump out of the point of impact. The boy, caught in the hands of fate, found himself flying back as Brook could only watch in horror. Jason never even got to scream, just screeching a short 'GA-' before hitting the ground with enough momentum to cause him to roll. When he came to a stop, blood was leaking everywhere.

Just... everywhere.

Brook's body had leaned a bit too far out of its comfort zone, thanks to him having grown a bit faint. As he shifted to regain his balance, he found Jason going to inspect the noise at the woodpile, saying something to the effect of having... whoever it was... flanked. So he was alive... Brook couldn't tell just what was real at this point, as his brain was trying to cope with what was going on.

However, he had to stay on task, help Jason. If Jason said that they were flanking this person, then... Brook was going to do his part. He was fairly tall, but that didn't mean he couldn't make himself hard to see.

Okay... nice and easy...

Brook poised his gun in front of him with both hands, like he had seen on TV once, and walked in a hunched-over stance as he rounded the woodpile. He felt a bit guilty for being able to acknowledge this, but he was sure that there was an episode of Walker, Texas Ranger that mirrored this situation. Besides... you know, being a high school senior, being abducted and put on an island with an uncomfortable device strapped to your throat, being forced to kill others... No. He wasn't doing that.

Brook had nearly rounded the whole pile, and his knees were quaking. Whoever it was, they had to be around the corner.

One.

Two.

"Hey, Jason. It's Nathan."

Wait, seriously!? Nathan? Brook let out a sigh of relief without having meant to. His cover blown, he pushed off on his lead foot and spun around the corner, gun pointed and at the ready anyway, until he saw what his ears had confirmed for him.

"That's right, you are fl..." Brook started, just in case it wasn't, but here he was... Nathan Choultard. One of his other friends, as luck would have it. Well, luck had REALLY shafted him in the ass as hard as it could as of late, so it was about time that it paid him back.

"Nathan! Is that really... oh my god..." Brook panted, standing up straight and finally lowering his gun. He wasn't safe, yet, though... it was hard to believe, but Brook had to come to terms with the fact that not everybody here was like Jason. Some people would've shot him, or stabbed him, or... who knows what else. He looked around nervously, raising the gun again... but not at Nathan or Jason. "We should... get somewhere safer."
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It must of been Jason's lucky day finding two of his friends. He paused for a second, thinking to himself. Well not really lucky all things considered, in fact, pretty much unlucky. Or yesterday was unlucky and today *was* lucky. It didn't really matter.

"Hey Nath. Brook's here as..."

Jason was cut off as Brook jumped out from the side and called out. As the three visibly relaxed Jason listened carefully to Brook.

"Yeah going to have to agree with you mate. This isn't exactly the most defensible location, plus we don't know who might be a little more trigger happy than us. I'm thinking if we're here." Jason set his backpack down and unfurled his map pointing to where he hazarded the group was. "We can make it to the town before nightfall, at least we can set something up in that case."

Turning to Nathan he took another quick glance around and drew a line with his finger. "You got anyone you wanna look out for Nath? You too Brook. We probably want to keep it small but there's safety in numbers. We've both got guns too so we're pretty kitted out, what did you get?"

Jason was already thinking about the trek. It would be a tough walk but they should be fine. Nathan seemed to have his head screwed on right at the moment, together they should be able to keep an eye on Brook until he calmed down. Shock was a bitch. Probably should get him to read the manual of that gun. Jason's one was a dozey, an underwater dart gun. Battery pack instead of clip. Took him all of 10 minutes to read the manual and figure it out. He hoped Brook's was easier.

"Gun's up guys, we should get moving soon, but take a minute or so to figure things out ok?"

Jason paused, letting Nathan get anything he might need off his chest. He was glad that both of them were here, none of them would ever hurt each other that much he knew for certain.





Cause they just wouldn't.




Right?

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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So, um, you ever, um, been in a crash?

((B108 Begin))

Ma'afu Tuigamala had been trekking across a stump-pocked landscape of rolling hills for what seemed like hours. He'd woken up on top of a pyramid of logs, for some reason, and after painfully stumbling down them, he wasn't in the best of moods. That wasn't even including the situation in the equation.

He knew what he was packing in his duffel bag. Crackers, water, a map, a compass...a gun. A small thing that looked like it had been sourced from some World War 2 film. Even thinking about the presence of the pistol in his bag was enough to dry up his throat and send his heart racing. It was one reminder too many of what was expected of him. Not that he was going to do it - even the idea of killing someone repulsed Maf.

Maf stepped over a stump and kept on moving. He wasn't going to stop until he found someone he knew. Anyone would do - though there was someone in particular he was searching for. Prom date, dressmaker - and actor, too, he'd found out at the Chinese restaurant after prom - Jennifer Perez. Her safety was of immense importance to the formidable Fijian. She had to survive. That is, if she was on the island. For a second, Maf entertained the notion that Jennifer had been sick, or had a wedding to go to, or something, anything to keep her off those buses.

As the sun beat down on Maf, he unzipped his bag, pulled out his drink bottle, and took a swig of water. It was lukewarm, and not exactly clean, but it was better than nothing at this point.

Suddenly, a loud yell echoed through the hills. Maf froze, and then slowly pulled the water away from his mouth. It was a guy, he was certain; who it was, not so much. Maf screwed the cap back on the bottle and placed it in the bag, then pulled out the tiny gun. It looked like a preschool toy in his dustbin-lid hands as he advanced on the spot, staying as quiet as his lumbering figure would allow. The intimidating sportsman had no idea how to use the gun - he knew there had to bullets in it, and that there was something about a safety that guns had - but he wasn't going to let on.

Pacing down the hill, the source of the yell became visible. There were three boys, all white kids - one donning glasses, one shorter guy, and one looking like he'd break down at any second, if he hadn't already. Maf advanced on the group, holding his gun to his thigh like on the crime shows his parents watched.

The group hadn't noticed them as he moved close enough to actually make out who they were, and Maf was sort of thankful for that - if they had been he hadn't known, people with the game on their minds, them noticing would've been a bad thing. Thankfully, they were no such thing. Instead, he'd strayed upon Jason Harris, Liam Brooks and Nathan Choultard - all athletics kids, and all friends of his. Struck by his luck, Maf stayed where he was, cupping his hands around his mouth and bellowing a single word - "JASON!"
THE LIVING - V4
G087 - Rachel Gettys / Tambourine / The Groundskeeper's Hut / Babysitter: Ciel
B027 - Dustin Royal / Yatagan / Residential Area / Babysitter: Hollyquin
B108 - Ma'afu Tuigamala / Astra 400 (9mm) [x3 magazines (8 round capacity)] / The Tunnels / Babysitter: Inky


THE DECEASED - V4
B097 - Max Neill / The Lighthouse

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Nathan glanced behind him and found that Brook was rushing towards him, gun in hand but a relieved expression on his face. Brook was a kind man, gentle, friendly and harmless when it came to track and field. Today, however he didn't nearly look as fresh and vibrant as he normally was.

Then again, Nathan would have applauded the man that woke up today and was able to skip amongst the daisies.

Nathan found himself relaxing slightly, at least as much as he felt he could with two guns hanging around his general vicinity. He felt himself breathing now, realizing that he had been holding his breath. He let go of the straps of his bag and glanced back to the duffel bag that he had left back by the stump.

He thought about the question asked of him. Friends he wanted to protect? Well, there really wasn't many, he found himself regretting the fact that he hadn't really made as much of an impact, he had a few people here and there on the track team, guys like Brook and Jason, but few others that he could think of right now.

"Well, nobody really...aside from all of us, that is...As for a weapon, I uh...I think I got some gun or something. Let me go check."

He dashed over to his duffel bag, dodging and leaping over the occasional log. Sure enough, there was the gun...It stared back at him, a metal shine cast down upon from the harsh sunlight reflecting back into his glasses. His arm cautiously stretched out and lifted it up from it's resting place. He gingerly carried the grip in his fingers, it felt so heavy already, like it was loaded, even though he knew it wasn't.

He dropped it back into the bag and zipped it up, in an attempt to hide it away, at least until he really really needed it.

"Yeah it's a gun guys," he shouted back, slinging the bag over his shoulder, "Got some sort of pistol it looks like..."

He began to walk back when he saw a figure off in the distance, there was no doubt about it, he saw Maf' in the distance, yet another good friend, one of the few that wasn't on the track team. He commonly worked out with him in the Bayview gym and the burly man was a good spotter when it came to lifting weights when he did so.

"Hey dude!" he called back out, he wanted to say more, ask how he was doing, see if he was alright, but the words were left hanging, and he couldn't think of anything more that he could say, he just clammed up and walked back to his friends. Waiting to see what they would do before making a move.
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Jason, Nathan, and himself. The world had still been torn apart, but at least it looked like the winter frost was no longer going to be so chilly, so biting. Before, it had been so painful. It hurt Brook to even think about just a few moments before, to when he was completely lost. Jason had helped him, helped hold it all together, and for that, he was thankful. He still felt on edge, though; it was going to be him and Jason against the world, it seemed. They both had a gun, but could Brook really count on things working out? He trusted his entire life with his best friend, his foolish, idiotic best friend who was also his wisest and smartest, most caring companion. It was himself that Brook couldn't trust. He was too weak.

Nathan's appearance was at least remedying this a little. Now they had a trio, each a foil for one another, yet another level-headed flower that could be counted on the vine. Maybe he didn't know Nathan as well as he knew Jason, but he could say the same for just about any other person at school. Nathan was just about the next-best thing, and Brook considered himself highly fortunate to have found two of his closest friends having awakened near him. Maybe, just maybe, fortune was smiling down on him a bit, telling him things would be alright. Brook looked to Jason, and found solace in his confidence. He also thought... no, knew, that things would be just fine.

"You got anyone you wanna look out for Nath? You too Brook..."

Brook looked up at Jason, then back down to the gun in his hands. He idly fiddled with the clunky-looking thing, keeping it pointed away from him and everybody else. For the moment, it was just a toy, something that he could work around with as he thought and spoke. "... M... maybe Tiffany, if we run into her..." He mumbled. His anxiety wasn't going to melt away in just a few moments, but Brook's shoulders had dropped considerably from where they had been hunched before, his tears dried, and his voice unchoked. This was as good as he could get for the moment. When Jason unfurled the map, Brook kneeled to get a closer look as well. The more he could concentrate on anything mundane, such as this map, it made it a little better. Peering at the picture of his destination (Brook couldn't help but notice that the island they were on was shaped similar to a cow-skull... he had never seen anything like it) on the map, he almost felt like they were on some sort of outdoorsman camping trip: it was their mission to get to a specific area by nightfall.

And the murder of your classmates, or yourself, was a real possibility.

"Gun's up guys, we should get moving soon, but take a minute or so to figure things out ok?"

"Oh... uh, give me a moment..." It had occurred to Brook that he hadn't really given his weapon, as odd as it looked, a full-out examination. "You want to help me with this, Jason? I... I haven't had enough time to..." Brook sulked to his daypack, sifting through the contents. A manual... he remembered something about a manual that could help him with this accursed thing. After a nice thorough search, sure enough, his hand had found the smooth pages of... a guide to survival? Not what he was looking for, at least for the moment. Maybe he could read it when they got to wherever the hell they were going, but not now. Brook sniffed a little, getting the excess snot out of his nose as he scooped and groped around again. Finally, his fingers found the manual, and he set about reading it to make sure he knew how to load his gun or... do whatever.

As he got himself set, Nathan had excused himself for a moment. Well, that was just fine, he could do that. "He got a gun too, huh..." Brook mumbled to himself. Jason was the only one within earshot when he said that, probably, but it wasn't even directed towards him... just an observation. When he heard that it was a gun, though, Brook's eyes lit up. He had gotten a gun, Jason had gotten a gun, Nathan had gotten a gun... did everybody get a gun? Or did this small, isolated group just get very lucky? For optimism's sake, and to keep himself useful for everybody else, he convinced himself it was the latter. Brook stood up, slinging his daypack over his shoulder, and sluggishly returned to the other two boys with the utmost effort being put into keeping his chin up.

"JASON!"

"A-Augh, shit!" Brook choked, his hand nearly raising to point the gun again until his head had managed to process the voice, and Nathan responded in a less-than-worried manner.

It's... it's Ma'f? Hey, wh-what do you know... another friendly guy. Just... just calm down, Brook. Jason, Nathan, Ma'f... you're all gonna be cool. You're all going to make it.

His rough reactions to, well, just about everything made Brook think of something. He had already come to terms with his initial reaction of finding Jason, and that was embarassing enough to where he didn't want to go over that again... he rubbed the back of his head when he thought about it. Nathan, though... Nathan couldn't have felt too good when... "Hey, uh... no hard feelings about the gun being pointed at you... right Nat?" Brook mumbled, still on the fence about whether or not he should be worried about Ma'f, even if it was just because he wasn't in the mood for surprises today. "Hopefully we can just get out of here soon..."
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Jason grimaced slightly when Brook mentioned Tiffany. He didn't turn around and show his friend that though. He didn't want to say anything but the girl was probably already dead and even if she was alive it would only get them in to trouble. He had joked from time to time that the girl would be the death of Brook and he was going to make sure that never happened. He involuntarily squeezed the gun in his hand a little tighter.

As Maf called out from the knoll Jason steadied himself, almost instinctively dropping in to a crouched position much like he did when preparing for a jump while snowboarding. Seeing the figure cresting the hill Jason awkwardly regained his balance and waved over to his Fijian friend. Moving over to him he held his hand out and 'side fived' his gym friend, the familiar movement of a ritual practiced day in and day out brought a smile to Jason's face.

"Maf." Jason said as he checked that Brook and Nathan were following him. "You have no idea how good it is to see you mate. We're in a boatload of shit, but we're going to do the best we can. Stick together, play smart, we might just be around long enough to figure something out." Jason didn't really think they had much chance of 'figuring something out' but hope was a fragile thing and he had to make sure no one gave in. He didn't mean to take on the mantle of a leader, but what with Brook still being shook up and Nath and Maf showing up it seemed like it was the natural thing to do. Truth be told he was hoping that Nathan would of stepped up to the plate like he did at track.

As Nathan and Brook reached the top of the hill Jason smiled once more. "Nathan's finally going to break that 11.0 on his hundred metre sprint." The 11.0 was an old joke that the track team had shared. Especially amongst the short distance runners. That was the time to beat and day in and day out they would never hit it. Jason had jokingly promised Nathan once that they would both break it before they finished college.

It seemed almost ridiculous now, as the four boys stood looking southward towards the rest of the island. A hundred thoughts flooded Jason's mind, each more foolish that the last, he couldn't quite place it but it really seemed that this was the beginning of something new and he was excited, despite the situation. It was like when he stood at the edge of a black diamond run or when he peered over the edge of a cliff, getting ready to abseil down but only this time he had people to look after, his friends and they were counting on him.

He was never the leader in school preferring to relax and be part of the crowd, but now glancing at Brook he could see that his friend could fall apart at a moment's notice so he had to be resolute, maintain his composure and never falter, not even for a second. They were his responsibility now and he was going to make sure that they were the ones that remained, whatever it took.

Looking at his companions he took a deep breath. They all deserved to live so much. Brook; his best friend, smart, caring and reliable. He had a bright future ahead of him, he was going to revolutionise America's irrigation system.

---

Jason stood in the flower shop, looking at what he strongly suspected was some kind of rose, but despite the time he spent around Brook he wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the most obvious of flora. Swinging his backpack on to his left shoulder he turned to Brook who was staring at a small sprinkler part.

"Hey Jase?"

"Yeah mate?"

"This project is my key to college"

"Brook mate, you are going to change the planet with that project of yours."


---

Jason couldn't imagine having the future taken away from anyone, least of all Brook. Glancing past his friend to Nathan he nodded grimly. Nathan was competitive, he could take the hard truth if needed.

---

"Go again!" Nathan yelled as the two boys tagged the flags at the end of the track field. "One more"

Jason took a sharp intake of breath as he pushed himself off again, Nathan was already a few feet ahead of him and pushing hard as the big clock looking over the field ticked by.

"I." Jason panted as he accelerated trying to draw aside of Nathan, "am so tired"

"Geoffrey wouldn't be tired yet Jason, I need to break his time."

"Geoffrey's not here Nath, he's not here."

11.6. Not fast enough. The two boys turned to do the sprint again.


---

Finally he looked back at Maf, the fourth member of their little group. The Fijian had the gun at his hip like some sort of police officer on one of those tv shows that were so prolific during that prime time slot. He looked dangerous, but Jason knew Maf was probably the least likely of anyone on the island to even hurt another person. Jason knew he would be looking for Jen, and he decided he would help, better than Brook's hangup at least.

---

The group of boys stood cautiously at the edge of the dance floor as all around them their fellow students got up and danced to the music blaring from the speakers in the hall.

"Maf is one lucky son of a bitch hey Brook?"

"I suppose so." came the response. The taller boy's eyes were fully focused on Tiffany twirling away on the dance floor, his thoughts far away.

Jason didn't mind though, he was happy Maf had finally got a break. He suspected the gentle giant hand never truly forgiven himself for the tackle he made back in junior year. He caught the smile Maf gave Jen as the two held hands. It was the first time in a long while Jason had seen him this happy.

"Hey Maf!" he yelled out and the Fijian turned his way, his eyes lingering on his date. "You go for it mate!" Maf blushed and smiled shyly as he turned back to Jen and murmered something to her.

Jason strolled on to the dancefloor, it was going to be a good night.


The gentle breeze brought Jason back to the present. "Fuck, couldn't of been some other school," he murmured. Turning back to the trio behind him, guns held at their side, standing at the top of the hill like some sort of action movie poster he grinned and spoke up. "Moment of truth guys. Teamates for life or what?"

And with that he moved southwards.

((Jason Harris continued in The Only Way Is Up))
Edited by MK Kilmarnock, Sep 1 2010, 09:18 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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The reaction had been kind of what Maf had expected, given they'd been put on this island to kill each other and all. Two of the boys had pointed their gun at him, but now they'd realised the lumbering Fijian was nothing to be worried about, apologies had been made, pleasantries had been offered and Maf had been given the go ahead to join them. Maf sauntered over, meeting Jason's hand with his in a half-assed 'side-five' as he walked up to him.

"Maf," Jason began, his voice as confident and cheerful as any person could be expected to muster in the situation. "You have no idea how good it is to see you mate. We're in a boatload of shit, but we're going to do the best we can. Stick together, play smart, we might just be around long enough to figure something out."

Maf nodded, chuckling as Jason followed up the introduction with a snarky comment about Nathan breaking the 11.0, a hallowed record among track stars that Maf was very much aware of - after all, it was drilled into the minds of every young student in their first year of Physical Education at Bayview. It was the kind of thing that people strove all their school careers to attain, and Nathan had been one of the closest to breaking it in the last few years. It was a pity he probably wouldn't be able to best it, and not just in his time at school.

The former offensive guard took in the desolate scenery as he contemplated this finality. There was one chance in two hundred (or something like that - Maf had never been the sharpest at math) for Maf to make it off the island alive. The same went for every other student. Unless they pulled something remarkable, the high likelihood was that they would all die. Maf would never get to do what he had always wanted to do. He'd never get to college, he'd never play professional football, he'd never make his family proud the way he wanted to...

Maf put those thoughts out of his head. Never did anyone any good. He turned to the people he had found - Jason, taking on the responsibilities of leading and trying to nut out the next move; Nathan, staying cool-headed despite it all; Brooks, quivering and bordering on a nervous wreck. All good people, Maf knew that. All reliable people. All people worth staying with.

"Fuck, couldn't of been some other school," Jason griped. "Moment of truth guys. Teammates for life or what?"

Maf watched as Jason walked off, and then looked at the others.

He nodded.

They would be his team.

((Maf Tuigamala continued elsewhere))
THE LIVING - V4
G087 - Rachel Gettys / Tambourine / The Groundskeeper's Hut / Babysitter: Ciel
B027 - Dustin Royal / Yatagan / Residential Area / Babysitter: Hollyquin
B108 - Ma'afu Tuigamala / Astra 400 (9mm) [x3 magazines (8 round capacity)] / The Tunnels / Babysitter: Inky


THE DECEASED - V4
B097 - Max Neill / The Lighthouse

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"Huh? Oh y-yeah don't worry about it Brookie, it's all good."

Nathan had been caught in a daze again. His thoughts had lingered back to the fact that he was now on an island, standing out like a sore thumb amongst his family now. All he wanted was a little attention, now he got to be on the six o'clock news.

Well ain't that swell...

He looked back up to Jason, he was going on and on about sticking together and forming some sort of group. The idea sounded preposterous, but it was probably better than just nibbling on a gun barrel or kicking as many logs as possible until they broke in half, or until he broke his foot. Hanging out with these four was a much better way to spend his days, however few they may be.

"Nathan's finally going to break that 11.0 on his hundred metre sprint."

As soon as Jason said that, Nathan began to grimace. Throughout the four years he had spent in high school, it was widely known, and widely joked about that he had been trying to eclipse his older brother. As the years had gone by, the results didn't yield, he has run himself ragged, ate as well as he possibly could and trained just as hard as some of the members of the football team and still nothing. But as the years went by, the joke still remained, Nathan will finally break 11.0...

Nathan fucking hated that joke...

He knew Jason was trying to cheer all of them up, but it wasn't exactly perking him up at all. Still he forced a smile and clung to the straps of his backpack.

"Yeah yeah, maybe I will...Let's all just get out of here, this place gives me the creeps..."

As Jason and Maf started to head off, Nathan let out a heavy sigh and began to follow them.

Well...here goes nothing I guess...

((Nathan Choultard continued elsewhere))
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Jason...

Nathan...

Maf...


And himself. Brook thought about the four of them, the four kids who would spend their days on the island together. These days could very well be their last. Brook sniffled a little at the thought, but he allowed himself no more tears. He had already broken down, he had already hit the bottom of his depression, his wallows in the despair of uselessness. There was no more time for that now that his friends were here, though. Jason had helped him to his feet, Nathan offered hope, Maf gave him strength. They were holding up just fine, no tears, no sniveling... so why couldn't he?

The four had begun to set out for nowhere definite, but according to the map which he had peered at, there was a residential district over in that direction. This was his new life it seemed, and he was determined to live it out to the end. Sure, his nerves were still going a hundred miles a minute, but all four of them were armed with guns. Maybe, just maybe, that was enough to scare others off, if anybody decided to try and hurt them. If it worked out like that, then they wouldn't have to kill anybody!

But then they'd just die after twenty four hours, wouldn't they...

Brook looked over the gun in his hands, the gun which he'd probably have to use. Once he got a moment to sit down without some tears pouring out of his eyes, he'd have to learn to use it, at least to protect himself. He was going to die, and he knew it. End of story. He wasn't killing Jason, which meant he couldn't be the last one alive. As long as he dressed it up like that, knowing that at least Nathan, Maf and Jason were all there for him, Brook felt like he could make it. Life or death.

Wake up, Brook... wake up, and smell the roses...

((Liam "Brook" Brooks, continued in The Only Way Is Up))
Edited by MK Kilmarnock, Sep 1 2010, 09:18 AM.
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