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Youth and Beauty Brigade
Topic Started: Sep 14 2010, 06:22 PM (4,440 Views)
ZombiexCreame
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it was a graveyard smash
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Timothy Questiare continued from Tunnel Vision))

Tim Questiare followed behind Colin as the two walked away from the tunnels. He wouldn't mind if they never went back there again.. His mind kept replaying the scene of Tony's attack again and again in his mind. He tried to will these thought away, but they just kept returning. He hated this. He wasn't the one that was supposed to be suffering over this... It was Colin who was forced to finish what he started after fatally wounding Tony. That was undoubtedly much harder for him than Tim. Tim didn't have to do anything.. He just stood in watch. The only thing he could think about was how great it felt to have his gun back in his own palm... Selfish.

Once the boys reached a beach, Tim marked down their location on his map and stuffed it into his duffel bag. The two had only walked for about ten or fifteen minutes, so they were most likely at the northern beach. Laying down his bag, he examined the scenery and almost smiled. On an island full of murder and bloodshed, there were still pockets of beauty. Nature was still going on about its own business. The soft white sand, the lapping waves, the bright sky above them.

Colin suggested a campfire, and Tim didn't disagree. He wouldn't mind sitting by the warmth and just resting. Sure, they might attract attention with a fire, but... he had a gun! They would be okay as long as he kept the firearm in near sight.

Once the fire began to burn, Tim settled down into the sand and held his hands out. It wasn't particularly cold on the island, but he felt like warming his hands was something he was supposed to do... It wasn't like he had marshmallows or anything. He didn't bother to strike up a conversation with Colin, since he figured his friend was probably just thinking or something. It would be inappropriate to interrupt his line of thoughts.

Time passed, and the sound of Colin's voice broke Tim from his trance. He had been staring into the flames ahead of him, thoughts rushing through his mind. "Huh?" he asked, looking over at Colin. "Blame?" It took him a moment to collect his thoughts, but when he replied, he sounded blunt and honest. "Of course not, Colin! How could I blame you? Tony attacked us! He tackled me to the ground and threw a bag at your head! I'm sorry for talking badly about the dead here, but he was being a total moron!"

He doubted the last part of his sentence would make Colin feel any better, but it was how he truly felt.

Tim looked at Colin's face, and he realized that he had begun to cry again. He sighed and looked away, tracing nondescript shapes into the sand. "Besides, I was the one with the gun... I should have just kept it in my bag... or... or concealed," he muttered lamely. It was a poor excuse to take the blame away from Colin, but... he sort of felt that was true, in all honesty. Maybe it was Tim's fault...

He looked over at Colin and frowned. He was sobbing loudly and asking if he was a murderer. Tim's face sunk quite a bit. Colin was really taking this hard! "No! You aren't a murderer! Please stop crying, Colin. You defended us.. I mean, I have you to thank! If you wouldn't have done anything, he might have hurt us.. Hell, I don't know. You're a good person, and.. We're gunna see a lot of messed up stuff here, but.. it's inevitable," he said, feeling worse with every word he spoke. This would not make Colin feel better.. Why was Tim such a moron?

Tim buried his face into his hands at the sight of Colin tucking himself into the fetal position. Oh, God. While Colin was thinking, 'How am I going to go on?', Tim was desperately thinking, 'What in the hell am I supposed to do?'

Raising his face from his hands, he looked over at Colin and grit his teeth. He wasn't angry at his friend, he was just... Well, he felt useless. Tim couldn't relate...

Tim stood up and walked over to Colin, attempting to pull his arms away from his knees. "Come on, get up... It'll do you no good to sit here and grieve and think about Tony. It was horrible, I know.. And I'm really sorry, but I think you should just put it out of your mind. If you keep thinking about.. the past.." he paused and took a deep breath. He sounded so cheesy, but... he usually did. "it'll only bite you in the behind. So.. please get up."

"Please go back to being the friendly and kind Colin that I know. I hate seeing you cry," Tim thought to himself, a frown lining his face. He would have wrinkles at this rate with how much he was frowning.
Edited by ZombiexCreame, Sep 25 2010, 01:31 PM.
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it was a graveyard smash
[ *  *  *  * ]
Tim took a step away from Colin and watched as the boy slowly composed himself. His sobbing ceased, and he took a deep breath, looking over at Tim. Colin spoke Tim's name, and the blonde immediately came to attention, his eyebrows raising. "Yes?" he asked, and waited patiently for Colin to speak. He desperately hoped that Colin wouldn't continue to ask useless questions about Tony's murder or the events that conspired back in the tunnels.

But, thankfully, the tunnels nor Tony's death were mentioned by Colin. Instead he told Tim that singing used to calm him down. Tim nodded in an understanding way and sat back down in the soft sand, his eyebrows knitted together. "W-Well, if you want to sing, you should." He went completely silent after that, not wanting to say anything more that could potentially discourage his friend. If Colin had a way to compose and calm himself, then let him work through it.

And he sang. Tim averted his eyes and, instead, watched the waves crash onto the shore. He brought his knees up to his chest and stared into the distance with empty eyes. He looked lost and confused, but he was listening. He was listening to the words that Colin sung with every fiber of his being. He could hear the emotion and the sorrow and the sadness, but all Tim could do was listen and appreciate it.

He sounded so good. He sounded much better than that time back at the Cafe and the times they practiced for the fake band that never came to be. At this time and place, caught up in the moment, Tim thought he had never heard of singing this good, but he realized that it was mostly the emotion that captivated him. And yet, he continued to stare and listen, not doing much else. Everything else seemed incredibly insignificant.

After a few minutes, his singing came to a close. Tim raised his hands to clap but quickly dropped them when he realized how ridiculous that would be. He could imagine Colin giving him a sharp glare, so he stayed silent, hugging his knees and looking from the ocean to the fire ahead. The smell of firewood filled his nose, and he held out his hands again to drink in the warmth. He became aware that Colin was crying again. Tim looked down at the sand and desperately tried to think of something to say. He wanted some magical phrase to pop up into his head; a phrase that would instantly make Colin feel better.

Instead, he decided to just say the first thing that came to mind. It definitely wasn't the elaborate response that he hoped for, and it did Colin's wonderful singing absolutely no justice, but he still spoke the words, "That was really deep, Colin. I mean, wonderful, but deep."

He didn't try to stop his tears this time. He knew that Colin deserved to cry.

Turning his attention away from the fire in front of him, Tim peered around the beach and looked behind him to see a blurry figure. The figure was too far away to distinguish who it was or what they were doing, but the figure appeared to be just sitting in the sand. Tim squinted and tried to make out who it was, but, honestly, Tim couldn't even figure out if it was a boy or a girl. His distance vision was terrible.

Looking away from the distant mystery person, Tim turned to Colin and felt a pang of guilt for him. He didn't want to interrupt his mourning, but.. Tim thought it would be a good idea to just let him know that they weren't alone. "'Ey, Colin. There's someone over there.." he whispered, jerking his head in the direction of the person.
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it was a graveyard smash
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A confused look spread over Tim's face when Colin quietly apologized. He still seemed thoroughly upset, and Tim honestly wasn't sure when his friend would ever get over it. Much like Colin, Tim didn't think he had much of a chance of living past a few days. Maybe a week or so if he was lucky, mostly because of his decent weapon. But, anymore than a week? Definitely not.

After a week, people would begin to get desperate. Rations of food would start to evaporate quickly, as would many of their classmates. Tim assumed that only serious people would survive past a week. Was he serious? He honestly didn't think so. Sure, he had his handy gun (thanks to Colin), but did he possess the strength to use it against someone else? He wasn't sure. He didn't want to think about it just yet. He'd use it with the situation revealed itself. And by 'use it', he didn't mean that he would pull the trigger willy-nilly.

He would think. He would think logically. He wouldn't use it on someone who didn't deserve it.

"Why are you apologizing?" Tim's voice spoke after what seemed to be a few silence-filled minutes, his eyes not looking away from the vague figure in the distance. He fumbled around for his flashlight and flicked it on, considering approaching the figure. Maybe the person needed help. Maybe the person was looking for someone, anyone on this godforsaken island. Someone to relate to, someone to be with. The dark side of his brain was telling him that it could also be a killer, but... Tim decided he could take that chance. He had a gun, he could handle it.

Before he made the split-decision to get up and approach the person in the distance, Tim waited in absolute silence, his jaw clenched and his eyes staring forward. Much time passed in which the figure didn't move. Tim took this as a good sign and slowly stood up, about to approach the figure. This could be a fatal chance, but it was a chance that Tim was willing to take. He wanted to help people, and perhaps that person needed help. It could be dumb, but he didn't care. His time was numbered anyway.

But, before he could stand up and make his way over there, the dark figure stood up and started making great strides towards the ocean in front of him. Tim's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he watched, his mouth falling open. He was waiting for the person to slow, but it just kept going. Perhaps it was going to wash off or..or.. No.

It was entering the water.

Tim only had time to shout, "Colin..!" before he took off in the direction of the figure. He wasn't sure if this person was planning to swim to safety (undoubtedly stupid) or merely take their own life, but Tim wanted to be there to find out and set things straight. He couldn't just watch someone walk solemnly into the great dark ocean before him.

The closer he got, the clearer the figure became. Tim trained his flashlight on the figure drawing closer to the water and realized that it was a male. Squinting, Tim tried to figure out if it was someone he knew. Was this.. Jacob? Tim recalled having a few classes with the boys, but he wouldn't consider them fond acquaintances or anything. Just... familiar. But now wasn't the time to assess whether or not he liked Jacob or not.

Once he was within a fair distance of Jacob, well away from the comforting fire behind him, he shouted, "Jacob! Jacob, is that you?! What are you doing? Wait!!" He ran forward, and, without thinking, put a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him from walking any further into the waters. "Don't.." Tim took a brief moment to glance back and see if Colin decided to follow Tim or stay behind by the fire.
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it was a graveyard smash
[ *  *  *  * ]
Tim seemed thoroughly relieved when Colin came to his aid in helping Jacob. For a moment, he thought that Colin would just shake his head and sit there before the fire, too depressed to help anyone out. "Of course Colin would never do such a thing! He's kind and helpful." But... this was Survival of the Fittest. Anything could happen. Ignoring the water that was soaking his pants and causing his shoes to feel like they weighed a hundred pounds each, he strengthened his grip on Jacob and tried to pull him back towards shore.

He wanted to know what happened to Jacob to make him feel so shoddy. What was worth killing yourself on an island where death was almost guaranteed? At this thought, Tim stopped himself and almost smiled. Maybe suicide really was better than what was to be expected later. Torture, slaughter, maiming... Or a quiet death out at sea. Now Tim felt bad, and his imagination ran wild.

What if Colin and Tim saved Jacob from the water now, and later, he would only be impaled or shot or beheaded or de-limbed? What if he later met a fate that would be a thousand times more gruesome than a simple drowning? Then again, drowning wasn't so pleasant either. Not that Tim knew from experience, but he was almost positive that he would rather die from blood loss as opposed to not being able to breath.

Then again, he had no experience. Maybe dying of blood loss was way worse than drowning or asphyxiation?

Tim's attention turned away from thoughts of death when Jacob's voice cut through the air like a sharp dagger. Tim listened and shook his head, his grip becoming like an iron vise. "N-No.. Don't think that. You are worth it," he told Jacob, but he was well-aware of how cheesy it sounded. It sounded empty and fake. Tim had no idea how much Jacob was worth. Maybe he wasn't.

Jacob mentioned 'she' being gone forever, and Tim understood a little. Jacob had lost someone, maybe a female friend or a girlfriend. Tim sucked in a breath of salty sea air and paused, running his tongue over his dry lips. He couldn't think of anything to say. Why was he so useless?! He couldn't comfort Colin, and he definitely wouldn't be able to comfort a complete stranger.

Jacob's tears and pain-filled words caused Tim's heart to clench as he fumbled for something useful to say. His mind went through all the things that he learned in life: how to tie your shoes, how to catch a fish, how to grow a Venus fly trap, how to cut paper into snowflakes, how to color inside the lines, and then... Those dumb classes he took in middle school that never did anyone any good. Drug prevention programs and sex education.. None of those stupid classes were doing him any good here! Why couldn't he have learned something useful in school? Like how to eloquently talk someone out of suicide?

But Tim knew nothing. Just a vessel full of stupid information. And yet... he could hear his brain whirring. Words were coming to mind, but they probably wouldn't be helpful. He didn't have a choice. He'd just have to say them anyway.

"Jacob, please don't. I'm sorry about 'her' but.. She's in a better place now, yeah? She's away from this island, and.. Anywhere is better than here, right...? You don't have to kill yourself because she's gone. She probably wouldn't have wanted that." Tim paused and rubbed the bottom of his chin. He became aware that a small bit of blonde stubble had appeared there.

"You don't have to take this path," Tim said loudly, gesturing out to the ocean. "Just.. hang in there for a bit longer. You.. You can hang with us! I'm Tim, and this is Colin. We-we can travel together!" There was another pause, and Tim shook his head. He couldn't do this. He couldn't piece together meaningless words to convey a message that might not even convince Jacob not to die. He took a deep breath and

"Look, Jacob," Tim said loudly, letting his hand trail lower to grip onto Jacob's upper arm. "We're not going to stand here and watch as you drown yourself. We can't do that. I can't do that. So you're going to get with us to shore, and you not going to fucking argue it, okay?! Stop being stupid!" he shouted, using his other hand to grab onto the same arm as he looked over at Colin. "Grab his other arm, and let's get him back to shore."

Tim didn't think that force was the best way to go about this at the moment, but he honestly didn't care. Words weren't helping. If he wanted to bring about a change, he would have to do so; not talk about it.
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it was a graveyard smash
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Tim ground his teeth together and continued on his frantic quest to get Jacob to shore. With each shout and yell, his grip only proceeded to grow tighter on Jacob's arms, and his pulls and yanks only strengthened. Once the three were able to reach shore, Tim slowly let go of the boy, but he seemed thoroughly enraged. He took a step away and gaped at the suicidal boy as he yelled expletive after expletive. He was in a rage that didn't seem likely to stop anytime soon.

And Tim could only stare, his eyebrow quirked precariously as he listened. He hadn't expected this. It's not like he thought Jacob would thank Tim for his kindness and go on his merry way, suddenly enchanted with the idea of life, not suicide, but.. In a fit of suicidal thoughts one moment and in a screaming rage the next? It was shocking to say the least.

Tim suddenly felt tired. He was tired of dealing with these emotionally unstable people. Tired of nursing crying people back to normality. Tired of dealing with irrationality and a lack of logic. He was mostly tired of Jacob's yelling. It wasn't like he felt smug in his actions of "saving Jacob's life." Tim didn't even view it as such. He was also sorry that he had butted in on what Jacob viewed as a prime time for dying, but.. Tim wasn't the type to sit around and watch as some dude offed himself. That wasn't his style.

But with the way this guy was yelling, Tim wondered if he even did the right thing at all. Maybe this was all a mistake. Just as he pondered earlier if drowning oneself really would save someone from later heartbreak or a violent death, Tim just wondered if letting Jacob die was a better idea.

"You don't even know! ... You don't even know what happened! ... I was... I was...I...was... ..."

Tim rolled his eyes. He was tired.

"Unless you were out there looking for sand dollars or ATLANTIS, then I think I know!" He paused. Way to be brash. "I, uh, I'm not trying to be mean here, but isn't there a better-" He trailed off and watched as Jacob sunk into the sand and began to cry. This was like Colin v2. Another person to comfort and sympathize with. Tim looked around and realized that he felt almost out of place. Should he begin to cry too? Was there something actually wrong with him? Had he gone sociopathic, too heartless to shed a tear once in awhile? At that thought, his heart went heavy. He couldn't think of a single thing that could possibly sway him to tears right now. Not even the image of Jacob's weeping.

Tim realized he was staring at Jacob like an animal behind a cage. He looked over at Colin with an imploring gaze, as if he was asking for help. A look that seemed to say, "What in the hell are we supposed to do?" Or maybe a look that just further proved how tired he really was.

"Paige?" Tim asked himself when Jacob began to cry her name. It must have been the name of that girl he lost. He wasn't completely aware of who Paige was, but... it must have hurt to lose someone that Tim assumed was very close. Tim's thoughts were so funeralistic right now, it was sickening. Robotic and sensitive. "She was a nice girl, so full of life. So close to dear Jacob, now departed and gone. How shall he ever go on?" Tim shook his head and was about to say something, probably something vaguely comforting and then Jacob made a break for it.

Tim shouted his name and ran after him, but, thankfully, he didn't make it far before collapsing. Tim gave Colin another one of his famous looks but stopped short and offered a clumsy smile. Colin had fallen in the water and was clearly soaked up to the neck. Holding out his hand, he helped the boy up, and the two walked towards Jacob.

Tim watched as Colin examined Jacob's form, and in the flickering light of the campfire, a wound was revealed. Tim was useless when it came to first-aid, so he was completely thankful that Colin took charge in caring for the wound, obviously caused by a bullet, he presumed. Watching as Colin fixed Jacob up, he couldn't help but smile and wonder if this is what it took to take Colin's mind off of Tony's death. Helping someone else in their time of need.. Maybe that would inspire Colin?

After dragging out his old blue sleeping bag for Jacob to rest on (Tim was now thankful that he hadn't thrown away the bag he had packed for the camping trip), the two waited for hours for Jacob to wake up. The wait was filled with silence and restless resting, but there wasn't much else they could do. They couldn't very well save a boy's life and then leave him out here to die.
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it was a graveyard smash
[ *  *  *  * ]
Hours passed and yet Tim didn't sleep a wink. He didn't even nod off like Colin. He wouldn't say that he was too scared to sleep, but that lingering feeling that reeked of bad idea enticed his brain into a fully-awake state. He wouldn't be able to sleep a wink whilst on this island inhabited by killers and classmates alike. Instead, he spent ample time on staring into the fire, watching the sea rush to shore, and tracing shapes in the sand beneath him. Jacob proceeded to stay passed out for quite awhile, and Colin seemed content on keeping an eye on Jacob, so Tim occupied his time with staring and occasionally building sand castles. It helped the time pass when he wasn't focused on watching for signs of life.

But no one came. The hours passed quietly and uneventfully. Tim sighed and stared down at his gun. His defense. His ticket to living a little longer in dire situations. It was a tool that changed situations for the better and for the worst. Hell, Tim hadn't even used the thing yet, and someone was already dead over it. With a shake of his head, Tim placed the gun in the sand beside him and made sure the safety was off. He also made sure the gun was in far-reach from Jacob. He didn't want the boy to get any ideas.. It would make Tim feel terrible, as selfish as that was.

A voice scratched its way through the dull silence of crackling fire and lapping waves. Water.. Tim, just like Colin, immediately went to grab a water bottle, but Colin was a bit quicker. He handed off the water to Jacob and began to speak to him. Tim stayed quiet for a moment, merely listening, but he decided it would be best to say his piece.

Rubbing his neck, Tim said, "Yeah, I was pretty worried too. I really apologize about dragging you to shore like that. I wasn't trying to be rude or anything, but.." He shook his head. The words failed him. As an after-thought, he added, "Well, I hope my sleeping bag wasn't too uncomfortable. It's pretty old. I've had it since fourth grade, and.. I guess it's better than sleeping on the sand, right?" He offered an apprehensive smile.

Colin asked a few questions, and an awkward silence sunk in. Tim added to that awkward-ness by saying a whole lot of nothing. He felt exactly the same way. What else should you say in such a situation? There wasn't much one could say that would do justice to any feeling or emotion. Tim mostly stayed quiet and decided, after a fairly long silence, that he would spend this moment eating a few bites. A growl had just emerged from the pit of his stomach, and he desperately wanted something to eat. The thought of only having enough for a short amount of time was enough to keep him from gorging on the rations like a typical teenaged boy, but he couldn't hold back the gurgling monster that was his stomach.

He pulled out a loaf of bread from his bag and broke it in half, delicately biting into the bread. It was slightly stale from the exposure, but it wasn't bad. There wasn't mold on it or any-.. Fuck. What the hell? There were small specks of mold on the underside of the bread. Was this a sick joke? Had the henchmen of that Mr. Danya planted old bread in his bag as a joke? With a shake of his head, Tim pinched the moldy parts off his food and proceeded to eat the rest with complaint. Who the hell cared about moldy bread when there were much greater things to worry and stress over?

After washing down his bread with a few gulps of water, Tim replaced the rations and motioned to the distance with his head. "If your leg feels okay, I think we should head out soon. We've been burning this fire for awhile now.. Someone has probably seen the smoke." He looked down at the small embers that remained. In just a short while, the fire would be completely out. "I know we're not exactly fully rested or anything, but.. Close enough, right? We shouldn't stay out in the open." Tim stood up to stretch, reaching down to touch his toes. He let out a loud yawn as he popped back up and stretched skyward.

He paused and examined Colin and Jacob. Shit. He was probably jumping the gun here. Who was to say that Jacob was even in any condition to move around? Maybe his leg was bad-off. What if Jacob didn't even want to tag along? Jacob could very well still be downright pissed with him. Tim quickly added, "I mean, we don't have to head out now. Just.. later.. should be in our best interests.." He muttered this, turning slightly red. He was tempted to apologize to Jacob again.

He wasn't sure how Jacob was feeling at all. Probably terrible. Probably not ready to just get up and join two strange boys he'd never met. Tim sighed and sunk back down to the sand. That awkward silence reared its ugly head once again.
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it was a graveyard smash
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Tim seemed quite relieved that Jacob thanked him, and after a moment's pause, even supposed that he could walk on his injured leg. Tim smiled slightly and realized that everything was going to be okay. Jacob was much more calmed down than yesterday, and his leg definitely seemed out of the danger zone. Maybe Colin and Tim just gained themselves a new ally? This boy seemed nice enough, if not a little emotionally unstable. Then again, Tim supposed everyone's emotions were a little whack on the island.

He wasn't prepared for Jacob to try to stand, and Tim immediately held out his hands. "Whoa, wait-" But it seemed to be okay. The boy succeeded in maintaining balance, so Tim said no more. Just as he thought, everything would be okay. He returned to a seating position and went on to apologize and explain everything. Tim listened patiently, his hands resting on his knees.

It was heart-wrenching, that was for sure. Tim bit his lip and stared at Jacob with a very sympathetic look on his face. It was sad. It was so damn sad that two people, so in love with each other, had to be forced apart by some angry guy with a gun. He mentally noted that this 'Rob Jenkins' was someone to watch out for. Did he know the guy? Probably seen him once or twice, but a face wasn't coming to mind. Regardless...

"I'm really sorry about Paige, Jacob. It's.. this island, this game.. it's tearing everything to pieces." He paused. He wanted to add something like, 'At least she's in a better place', or 'at least she wouldn't have to experience anymore of this hellish game,' but he thought it wouldn't go over well. Maybe there is no heavenly life after death. And surely Jacob would rather have Paige alive than dead.

But everyone had to die. Everyone other than one lucky bastard, of course. That lucky person, the fittest in this game of survival, would get one prize that no one else would -- life. And would it even be worth it after everyone in your senior class was dead? After everyone you ever knew and loved, gone in the matter of a week or two?

"Don't think about the 'ifs.' It's not your fault. That Rob guy is the one who shot her." He would have added more, but everything else that he relayed in his mind just sounded tasteless. He looked over at Colin and listened as his friend also added something comforting. Tim nodded, looked back at Jacob and said, "Exactly."

Thank God Colin was here. Tim wasn't sure what he would have done if he was forced to deal with Jacob alone.

Tim's heart dropped as Colin opened his mouth and started to talk about what happened back in the tunnels. "C-Colin, y-you.." he stuttered, but it was too late. He was deep in his tale of Tony's untimely death. He hung his head and resisted the urge to plug his ears and go 'Lalalalala I CAN'T HEAAR YOU,' because that's what he wanted to do.

"You didn't have to say anything, Colin," Tim stated, looking over at Jacob with a look that said, 'it's not his fault, so don't try anything funny or throw accusations.' Or.. that's what he thought his look conveyed, anyway. "Besides, I don't want to open an old can of worms here, but I surely doubt Tony.." He paused and shook his head. Didn't want to say it. Didn't want to upset Colin and say anything that seemed slightly off-color. It wasn't the time to discuss the past anyway. It was gone and over.

Tim instinctively picked up his gun from the grass and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. Tony had to die for this thing, so he figured he'd keep it safe.

Tim looked at Colin and Jacob. He felt bad. Both the boys had been through such traumatizing situations. Colin had to kill and Jacob had to watch his beloved die right in front of him. Tim had been spared the pain of watching Colin kill Tony, so, as it presently stood, Tim hadn't seen a single scarring thing. He felt weird, like he should have some emotional story to tell.

But he didn't. He was just plain old Tim, like usual. That would never change.

Tim stood up and grabbed his stuff, throwing his bag over his shoulder. "I'm ready to go whenever you guys are. Just say the word." He was trying to usher Colin and Jacob along, trying to get them to stop telling such somber and depressing stories. He wanted to keep going. He wanted everyone to stop looking back and thinking 'If, if, if'.

But the past was all they had because there wasn't much of a future left. It was something that Tim had yet to realize.
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Tim was relieved that Jacob didn't react harshly to Colin's incident with Tony. He figured that it would be pretty easy to grow paranoid over someone else's kill. Other than what that Mr. Danya said over the daily announcements, it was no telling what had really happened. Had it been an accident at all? Did something completely different happen? The only person that knew the truth was Danya (and his crew, of course), and, in his high-up position, he didn't even have to tell the truth if he didn't want to. He was the king of this castle.

Regardless, Jacob didn't try to shout or back away or flail wildly. He seemed to understand. Tim was happy with that reaction -- understanding. It was better than paranoid or on-edge.

Jacob mentioned something about finding his friends, so Tim nodded with enthusiasm and managed a small smile. It was good to hear Jacob talk about someone that wasn't Paige (and therefore, wasn't dead), so he figured everything was heading in the right direction. "Alright. We can keep an eye out for any of your friends. It would be nice to have a few more allies in our group. The more the merrier, huh?"

Jacob mentioned that he no longer had his stuff, so Tim nodded. "I haven't really eaten much of my rations, so I don't mind sharing. At least until we can find.. more." He shook his head, wondering what corpse they would have to take rations from. That was the only way to secure more food, right? Taking it from a dead student? Ugh. Tim lost even more of his appetite, but his mind was whipped into another direction. Colin was speaking, asking Jacob if he could make it far on that leg. Tim didn't bother to listen to Jacob's response, as it didn't matter much if he could make it far. It wasn't like they were going to stay on this damn beach any longer, and if Jacob wanted to rest every once in awhile, it wasn't like Colin or Tim would deny him that rest. They weren't sadists.

Colin seemed to have a traveling plan as he looked at his map. Tim nodded in agreement and started walking in the direction that Colin had indicated -- the direction that Jacob had came from. "I'm ready. Let's go!"

Tim didn't bother to ask why Colin wanted to avoid people. How would they form a nice, safe group if they were avoiding people? But he just figured that Colin was afraid to run into killers. As were most people, of course, but Tim thought that avoiding people would just deprive them of allies. But did they need anyone else? Did they need another person in their small group that they didn't know very well? Someone that could stab in their backs or steal their rations when they weren't looking? Tim glanced back at Colin and Jacob. Colin being his current best friend (Tim had other friends, but they were mostly younger than him, and thus, safe. And seeing as he'd most likely never see them again, Colin was now his closest friend). And then there was a Jacob. Jacob seemed like a very decent guy, he'd never hurt them. Tim trusted him even though he'd only been with the guy for a few days. But if he could trust these two, could he trust anyone else?

Tim was sure he'd figure out where his trust lied eventually.

((Timothy Questiare continued in Stay Frosty))
Edited by ZombiexCreame, Dec 24 2010, 01:08 AM.
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