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Time Is Not On Our Side
Topic Started: Sep 4 2010, 11:07 AM (4,143 Views)
Badb
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Trained for combat by a cabal of hacktivists.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Dave Morrison, continued from Break Up and Break Down))

Dave was starting to get tired now. He'd spent the whole fucking day so far on his feet, and frankly, he was pretty fucking sick of walking and the pain in his legs told him they were too. To his credit, Dave managed to walk a fair distance from the fair before he finally slipped up. Dave stumbled, Not enough to make him fall over, but enough to make him a little worried. It was at this time that he remembered that in the space of a day He'd been thrown into a mirror, gotten his nose busted, and tackled someone twice his size onto the concrete. He was running on adrenaline at the time, not really feeling anything. Now he was feeling it. And it hurt like a motherfucker.

"Hey, Hold on a second, I need to do something about my fucking knees."

Dave wouldn't admit it to the girl, but he was pretty beaten up. His nose had stopped bleeding a while back, but that was the least of his problems. He was starting to regret tackling a guy onto some concrete, but whatever. Dave sat down, pulling the leg of his pants up. His knee had a pretty big gash on it. No wonder it was fucking stinging. Dave took his pack, pulling out his first aid kit. Dave was never really into biology or any of that shit, but he took enough tackles on the field to know how to patch himself up afterwards. The kit was better stocked than he'd expected, too. Unlike the school's patented 'Best Before December 3rd 1973' kits.

He took a small spray-bottle of disinfectant and sprayed it on his knee. It stung like a bitch, but Dave figured it was best to do at least something about it. Dave quickly took a gauze pad and a roll of tape, setting about covering the cut. He pulled up the other pant leg and quickly set about doing the same to the cut he'd managed to get on that leg, before packing the kit up and sticking it back in his pack.

He looked up to the Mexican girl. She'd spent most of the way in complete fucking silence, and quite frankly it was starting to creep Dave the hell out. Even something in Spanish would've been better. He wouldn't have understood a fucking word of it, but at least it wasn't dead silence. He didn't even know her name yet, for chrissakes.

"Oh, by the way, what's your name?" He slung the pack on his back and got to his feet. "I'm Dave, by the way. Dave fucking Morrison."
V5:
B035 - Ray Gilbert - DECEASED - Guy Fawkes Mask - Too Far Gone
G029 - Zoe Leverett - DECEASED - Machete - To Really Be Alone, To Pick At All the Bones
[/spoiler]
Quote:
 
[18:10] <Laurels> WWJD? Fuck corpses, apparently

Quote:
 
[15:16] <Naft> My college once nearly burned down because someone tried to make a bong out of dollar bills and the fire alarm didn't work
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Badb
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Trained for combat by a cabal of hacktivists.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Dave sighed. The girl was really making a fuss about her name, what with all the pauses and stuff. He guessed she was waiting for a drumroll or something, and he would have happily obliged were his hands not cut up. Besides, he highly doubted she had a more embarrassing name than half the people in the school.

"Isabel, Right." Dave nodded. "That works, I guess."

Dave looked around. No one in sight. It was fucking unprecidented, given how there were like a million people on the trip. Him and Isabel had been walking for a good couple of hours now, and they hadn't seen anyone yet. He'd briefly wondered if everyone was just hiding, waiting it out, before he remembered that pretty much everywhere he'd been so far had some shit going down in it. Not much chance of people hiding when they've got fuckers breathing down their necks with chainsaws and god-knows-what-else.

Isabel broke the silence by asking if he had anyone he was looking for. Dave thought it through for a couple of seconds before shaking his head.

"No one, really." He looked around, focusing on the now de-shived trumpet. He was wondering why she was still carrying the damn thing around, but he didn't have the heart to tell her the damn thing was useless. "Well, my best friend ain't on the trip, so that's that one out the window. Teaming up with the football team, wouldn't be a good idea, to say the fucking least right now. Half of them are probably either high off their heads right now or in the fetal position. And for the last one, well, messy fucking break up. Don't wanna talk about it."

"So, I guess that leaves me wandering aimlessly, with no fucking clue what to do right now until we both get brutally murdered by some random douchebag." He looked down at his arm. It was sort've covered in bugs. He swore something was fucking drawing them to him. He shook it in an attempt to get them to fly off before just brushing them off with his other hand. "And that's just fucking great right now."
V5:
B035 - Ray Gilbert - DECEASED - Guy Fawkes Mask - Too Far Gone
G029 - Zoe Leverett - DECEASED - Machete - To Really Be Alone, To Pick At All the Bones
[/spoiler]
Quote:
 
[18:10] <Laurels> WWJD? Fuck corpses, apparently

Quote:
 
[15:16] <Naft> My college once nearly burned down because someone tried to make a bong out of dollar bills and the fire alarm didn't work
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Badb
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Trained for combat by a cabal of hacktivists.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
So they were both in the same boat. That made Dave feel a bit better. What didn't make him feel better, however, was Isabel's constant mumbling to herself. That was sort've creepy, to say the least. Whatever, she wasn't really in a position to go nutzoid and stab him, now she'd broken her Trumpet-Shiv and all, so she was still preferable to the alternative.

Isabel walked away and sat down on a tree stump. She pulled out a pretty fucking vile looking sandwich, offering him some.

"Nah, Fine Thanks." Dave said, walking over. "I 'preciate the thought, but I'm having enough trouble not throwing my guts up right now as is. Got some stuff of my own, so I guess I'll eat later."

"No," She pushed it towards him. "No, I'm fine, honestly."

Then the announcement hit. Fuck, was that guy's voice annoying. He went on to say about the nineteen students that had been killed over the day. He listed off the names, people who Dave vaguely knew from being in the same classes, or having to sit near them in a lesson, that sort've stuff. No one he ever talked to. The asshole announcing was throwing in some shitty jokes along the way for good measure, before getting to the 'Chainsaw Massacre' as it had been affectionately dubbed.

Dave blinked. The guy who got chainsawed and knived was name Robert Lerger. The name rang a bell but it was one of those names Dave had heard but never really connected to a face. The only person announced as responsible was Rasputin. Dave sighed. Roland would probably be happy with that one, no doubt. He still had a clear record, as far as things were concerned.

He looked over, to see how Isabel was taking the news. From what Dave could tell, she was freaking the fuck out, quaking and everything. The whole fucking works.

"Hey?" Dave asked. "Hey, Isabel, you okay?"
V5:
B035 - Ray Gilbert - DECEASED - Guy Fawkes Mask - Too Far Gone
G029 - Zoe Leverett - DECEASED - Machete - To Really Be Alone, To Pick At All the Bones
[/spoiler]
Quote:
 
[18:10] <Laurels> WWJD? Fuck corpses, apparently

Quote:
 
[15:16] <Naft> My college once nearly burned down because someone tried to make a bong out of dollar bills and the fire alarm didn't work
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Badb
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Trained for combat by a cabal of hacktivists.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Dave sighed and turned his back. No response. With Roland he was getting pretty used to getting ignored all the fucking time, but with the mexican, it was sort've annoying, really. Oh, wait, she was talking to him again. That was fast. She must've felt like she had to explain herself, because when Dave looked away she was already rambling about something.

"Alright, sure." Dave turned around and took a couple of steps back. Isabel's arms were covered in scrawled text. Names? Was she marking down the who'd been killed? "Whatever floats your boat, I guess."

"Agreed," Dave nodded. That was a bit of an understatement, to say the least. "Yeah, I'm surprised about Roland too. I guess that's good for him, bad for the next group of assholes he tries to put together."

Isabel scrawled another name on her arms. Was she expecting to like, write their names down on her and have them die of a heart attack or some shit? Dave figured that'd be great if it worked and all, but he highly doubted it would. Or that that was even the real reason.

"Not to burst your bubble or anything, but won't that ink get all smudged if you like, sweat or anything?" Dave didn't really want to shoot down another of her great ideas like that, but he really couldn't help but notice. "I mean, whenever I used to draw anything on my arm as a kid it'd be gone by the next day."

Dave sighed. Ignored again. Whatever. Every time he brought something up he was getting ignored now, and to be honest he was getting pretty fucking pissed off about it. Dave yawned. Oh God, he was getting tired. He was always bitchy when he was tired. But how the fuck was he supposed to take a nap? It wasn't like he could just go to Isabel 'Oh hey, I'm gonna sleep now.' And expect for her to sit there and wait for his ass to wake up.

Dave yawned again. Louder this time.

"Alright," He tried to shake himself awake, to no avail. "I don't know about you but I'm pretty fucking tired right now."
V5:
B035 - Ray Gilbert - DECEASED - Guy Fawkes Mask - Too Far Gone
G029 - Zoe Leverett - DECEASED - Machete - To Really Be Alone, To Pick At All the Bones
[/spoiler]
Quote:
 
[18:10] <Laurels> WWJD? Fuck corpses, apparently

Quote:
 
[15:16] <Naft> My college once nearly burned down because someone tried to make a bong out of dollar bills and the fire alarm didn't work
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Badb
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Trained for combat by a cabal of hacktivists.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Apologies for the lateness, had a bit on my plate :x))

"Right." Dave nodded before covering his mouth and yawning again. "Yeah, Alright. Best not to sleep on Murder Island and, uh, stuff."

Isabel stood up, apparently ready to go find somewhere to crash for the night... morning... whatever. Dave checked if he himself had all of his stuff with him. Aside from the discarded packaging of the plasters and gauze, he pretty much had everything. Hell, he'd even managed to keep track of the knife without cutting himself on it.

Right, fuck. Finding somewhere to sleep. Right. He'd get right on that.

Dave was startled to hear a voice from behind him. Another person. Great, he was having such a good day, too. And Jesus, how long could they have been there? The girl, well, Dave assumed they were a girl. She awkwardly introduced herself, before saying something about the fucking trumpet shiv and told them her name. Wait, Charlie. He'd heard that name before somewhere. Oh fuck, was that...

Dave turned around. Yep. It was. Charlie Dew-Claire? Something like that. Fuck it, like he'd need to use her last name anyway. Fuck, she wanted to be best buddies and skip off into the sunset. Or maybe escape the island on a fucking swan boat. That'd be grand.

"Hey, I'm Dave fucking Morrison." He waved at her. She probably couldn't remember his name, and even if she did she probably wouldn't have cared enough at school to say hi to him. "Nice to meet you too! I had to watch a guy get stabbed in the neck and gutted with a fucking chainsaw! How the fuck was your day?"

Dave looked over, Isabel seemed to have found somewhere safe-ish to sleep.

"Listen, me and the Help." Dave pointed over at Isabel, keeping his voice quiet so she wouldn't hear the frankly terrible joke. "We're getting pretty fucking tired, to be honest. But, well, you're welcome to like, crash with us if you really want to. So long as you don't try to kill us with whatever death-dealing instrument of doom you've been given, oh and um, not too close, either. Hands away from the merchandise and all that."

Had Dave not been tired as fuck right now, he would've realised he'd turned his back on her. She could easily just pull a him right now and tackle him to the ground. Hell, she was probably tougher than him right now. However, Dave was tired as fuck, and none of this mattered to him as he walked over and slumped down.
V5:
B035 - Ray Gilbert - DECEASED - Guy Fawkes Mask - Too Far Gone
G029 - Zoe Leverett - DECEASED - Machete - To Really Be Alone, To Pick At All the Bones
[/spoiler]
Quote:
 
[18:10] <Laurels> WWJD? Fuck corpses, apparently

Quote:
 
[15:16] <Naft> My college once nearly burned down because someone tried to make a bong out of dollar bills and the fire alarm didn't work
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Badb
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Trained for combat by a cabal of hacktivists.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Dave was awoken by a scream. Then, suddenly, nothing. Wait, what the fuck had just happened? He looked around. It was light again...? The announcements were blaring away, listing off more names. Had they just slept the entire fucking day? Well, fuck, that was a waste. They could've ran into more emo chicks. He had more fun and varied places to get injured an make himself bleed from.

On that note, Dave put his hand up to his nose, the blood having long since stopped flowing. Well, that was one of the advantages of sleeping for an entire day, he guessed. Strange the no one found them, though. Oh well, at least that meant they could actually lie down without fear of being murdered or whatever.

Dave grabbed his things and got back up to his feet, adjusting his cap and brushing leaves and little twigs off of his shirt and pants. Isabel and Charlie seemed to have already gotten up and both looked ready to get the fuck out of the woods. Dave had to agree, he was getting covered in shit from sleeping under the tree.

"Alright then," Dave looked over his shoulder to see if Charlie had gotten left behind. She hadn’t. "Lets get moving, I guess."

Wait, where the fuck were they headed? Did they have anything to do? Oh, right. No one had said anything. Whatever. He'd just follow wherever Isabel -Dave wondered if she'd mind being called Izzy- and Charlie were headed. Charlie was probably headed somewhere, he guessed. Yeah, she was gonna lead the way.

What followed was one hell of a long hike.

((Dave Morrison, continued in Day of the Dove.))
V5:
B035 - Ray Gilbert - DECEASED - Guy Fawkes Mask - Too Far Gone
G029 - Zoe Leverett - DECEASED - Machete - To Really Be Alone, To Pick At All the Bones
[/spoiler]
Quote:
 
[18:10] <Laurels> WWJD? Fuck corpses, apparently

Quote:
 
[15:16] <Naft> My college once nearly burned down because someone tried to make a bong out of dollar bills and the fire alarm didn't work
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