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It's hard to walk tall when you're small; Under the logging road bridge.
Topic Started: Sep 15 2010, 03:39 AM (3,874 Views)
Chib
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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
[The start of something truly absurd. --> Ema Ryan]

Miserable. That would be a pretty good adjective to use, if you wanted to describe Ema just then. She was pretty sure she was where she thought she was, but that was little solace. All she'd done was look at her map, and decide to follow the river out of the swamp, taking the expedient route to open ground. She'd had quite enough of the little enclave that was the key, and her trek through the swamp had been one of the most difficult walks of her life - physically speaking it took the cake, but she could think of at least one that challenged it psychologically.

And so there she found herself, moon high above her head in the clear sky, sitting on the side of a small stone bridge, crossing the river from west to east, connecting the old logging road to the yet-uncut forests. And sitting there, starting to lose sensation in her behind having sat on the cold, hard stonework for far to long, she wondered if it would be worth just jumping off, letting the river take her away. Maybe she'd wash up somewhere better than here. Maybe she'd drown. Maybe she wanted to.

A few hours passed, thinking like that. At an educated guess, Ema estimated it was about half past one in the morning, judging it to have been about three hours since she'd arrived and sat down to take stock of her situation again, not that she'd known what time it was then, either.. She physically slapped herself across the face. Not hard, but enough to sting, waking her up a little. Inwardly, she was furious at herself "Three hours!? Spent doing what? Considering becoming An Hero? Grow a pair Ema, you're not offing yourself, end of story."

Another few hours passed underneath that same bridge, where the small girl had eventually decided to climb down to, thinking the meagre shelter might help her sleep. It didn't. She just lay half-awake, unable to turn her thoughts off, considering the reality of the island. She didn't want to die, but she didn't want to kill either. Murder, being murdered, neither are ever exactly appealing thoughts. So lying in what passed for a bed, thinking about life and thinking about death, Ema found her mind involuntarily filled with the dulcet tones of Steven Morrissey, thanks to the rather lyrical manner her thoughts had taken on.

The teenagers, who love you, they will wake up, yawn and kill you.

Everyone else must be thinking the same thing as her, or must have already, or would soon. Ema was sure of that much. They'd think about their situations, they'd think about life, and think about death, and how the latter really doesn't appeal to them. They'd decide to kill, so they themselves could survive.

So don't let the blue, the blue eyes fool you

Ema didn't want to kill anyone, though. She didn't know if she was even capable of it. Physically, given that she was woefully unfit and assigned a total joke of a weapon, and mentally, given that she'd never been in a fight before, she couldn't imagine defending herself from a mugger, let alone winning a fight to the death.

They're just gelignite, loaded and aiming right between your eyes

She'd have to, though. What other option was there? She couldn't quit, she couldn't give up, she couldn't just run and hide away, just prolonging the inevitable. Ema knew, at the very least, she'd prefer to die on her feet, trying to save herself, not cowering in a corner, trying to cling on to as many seconds as she could. Maybe she could live longer that way, but what kind of life would it be?

You know I couldn't last, someone please take me home.

Drowsy as she was, that thought process took Ema until five in the morning. After that, her brain simply didn't have the energy to carry on thinking clearly. She didn't sleep well, the on-and-off probably added up to no more than an hour overall, but at least she rested. When she rose, roused by the sound of Danya's clapping, she looked even more of a muddy, sodden mess than she had after emerging from the swamp, and her entire body ached. But she felt alive enough to stand up - not without banging her head on the underside of the bridge first - and move around. That'd have to be good enough.

The announcement went mostly over her head. Her ears pricked up at the dual mention of Kris Hartmann, someone Ema hadn't been friends with, but knew well enough from afar to be surprised by her killing not one, but two people. As for the rest of them, victims and killers alike, Ema didn't recognise a single name. The dual blessing and curse of spending her time alone, she didn't know who to watch out for, but at least she didn't know anyone well enough to feel any worse about their deaths than usual.

Nineteen deaths, in total. That number resounded in Ema's head for some time. One day, not even a full 24 hours, and nineteen of her peers were dead. With her head too muddled to subtract the double-killers from the list, she settled for nineteen murderers to fear. But if that many had already done it, how many had simply resolved to, given the chance? Probably more. Would it be any great evil for her to join them?

She didn't want to think about it just yet. See how things go. Defend yourself if you have to. Defend, with your bare hands. Heh, that's a laugh. Good luck, girly.

With that fabulously upbeat thought in mind, Ema clambered out from beneath the bridge, and took a look around, hoping the pale light of dawn might give her a hand with navigation, or at least show her if anyone else had arrived.
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.


Riley Moon appreciates that Action Needs an Audience, but it's hard not to watch. Hair Status: Bubblegum Pink
Parallel with: The Heavy Weapons Guy

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"Sure thing, Dog Moon."
[ *  * ]
((Janet Victoriee-Ser continued from Shelter From the Storm))

Janet didn't know what possessed her to leave the abandoned village; perhaps it was the fact that she knew that she wasn't going to get anywhere by wandering through some ghost town. The path was relatively clear anyway, tufts of grass had been pulled out or pressed down. Hardly a rural area. Janet breathed at a slow but constant pace until she saw light reflecting off a river. Strangely she didn't feel very scared of the river, which was strange considering that it was a river that her brother had died in. She thought it best not to look into the river, just in case.

She thought of how she was going to survive. She couldn't survive much longer being terrified of every tree or bush that she came across; she'd have to face her fears sooner or later, perhaps this is just what she needed. Could this be what her brother wanted? No! Janet reminded herself that the person she had saw in her dream was not her brother and this is not where he would have wanted her to end up. Even so, as she was here, she may have to also accept the fact that sooner or later she may actually have to... Kill someone... Janet shuddered at the thought so she put it to the back of her mind.

There was a bridge stretching across it too and hanging around the bridge seemed to be... Yes! It was a classmate. Janet forgot the possibility that she could be killed on sight and ran over, happy to finally see another human being.

"Over here! It's me! Janet V!" Janet had no idea whether or not the classmate would recognise her name, but the classmate looked familiar so she thought that she'd try it.
Edited by Limisios, Sep 16 2010, 10:17 AM.
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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
Ema rubbed the back of her head, further ruining any semblance of straightness her hair had managed to regain as she'd been sitting, and later lying, still. She made a mental note; skull + stone = ow, and reminded herself to not headbutt anything else she may encounter on her second day.

That was an odd thought. Her second day. Hers. Ema Ryan, the one that, had she known about Survival of the Fittest before then, would have even herself admitted she doubted she'd last more than a few hours. Yet there she was, still alive, still uninjured - save for a small bruise forming on her crown - and still mostly stable. Physically, not much worse for wear than she'd been before arriving, maybe even a little fitter, after the long trek through the swamp, which would probably render less hostile terrain comparably easy to cross. Mentally, she was tired and ratty, the combination of little sleep, stress and her growing headache, but otherwise quite sane and stable. All in all, in much better condition than she would've dared hope.

"Over here!"

Ema rubbed her head again, not sure if the noise she'd heard was real or a result of the pounding inside her skull. Sounded like that godawful fairy Navi, telling her to pay attention to something she'd already figured out. Hey, listen!
Good idea, actually. Listen. See if you hear anything else.

"It's me! Janet V!"

Damn, it really was real? Human, female, and oddly friendly. Ema didn't even recognise the name Janet, let alone need an initial to differentiate it from the other 0 Janets she knew. But that tone... did she not realise what was happening? Or maybe her optimism hadn't been marred by fighting and harsh realisations yet? Either way, best to take advantage of the opportunity for a replacement Eve. Probably wouldn't have as awesome as sword as Eve had, but an unarmed ally is better than no ally.

So Ema made a potentially fatal choice, and climbed up onto the side of the bridge, making her small frame at least slightly more visible than before. She waved, trying to look as un-playerlike as possible, if such an adjective exists. She tried to speak, to give a friendly reply, but her throat felt dry and scratchy, and her mind drew a blank of what to even say. The best she could manage was a weird croak, barely audible even to herself. Probably best not to try again, lest she sound oddly threatening or something on the second time. She'd already managed to creep one person out entirely without meaning to, better not to do that again.
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.


Riley Moon appreciates that Action Needs an Audience, but it's hard not to watch. Hair Status: Bubblegum Pink
Parallel with: The Heavy Weapons Guy

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it was a graveyard smash
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Josie Vernon continued from We Are The Sleepyheads))

Josie Vernon and Sierra Manning, the inseparable pair, left the northern cliffs and wandered along the coast with no actual destination in mind. Josie kept herself close to her friend, and her eyes were peeled for anyone that might stand in their way of finding Omar. But, as it stood, the pair had seen no one. Josie took this as a good sign, as she wasn't sure what she would say to anyone else.. Especially someone that was unfamiliar to her. She felt a little paranoid and on-edge, as did anyone.

After much walking, the two girls entered an area full of stumps and fallen trees. Both exhausted from the initial shock and gravity of their situation, they decided to stop and 'camp' for awhile. Their camp was little more than sitting on the stumps of fallen trees and resting as the sky above them grew dark. Through the night, Josie kept focusing on the different sounds that forced her paranoia to flare up severely... Every rustle, snap, crack, and far-away cry caused her heart to clench up, and she would immediately peer around with her flashlight.

Needless to say, Josie didn't get much rest.

Sometime before sunrise, Josie led her friend away from the felled forest and continued along a small river. She had no idea where this river would eventually lead her, but.. as initially established, she didn't have a set location in mind. She just wanted to find Omar and reunite him with her best friend. She wanted to make Sierra happy; she wanted to see her smile again.

As the sun began to rise bit by bit, Josie squinted and saw a dirt road ahead. It was off in the distance, but roads led to places, right? Up straight ahead was a bridge, and after more walking, she realized that the road led straight to the bridge. "I wonder what's beyond it.." she thought absently, her pace not slowing.

In the dim light, Josie was almost to the bridge when the speakers crackled to life. She would have noticed Ema, except now her guard was dropped as her ears strained to pick up the details of Mr. Danya's announcements.

Josie didn't remove her eyes from the speakers as the man in charge spoke, and all the while, her arm was tightly grasping Sierra's. The first two deaths that Danya mentioned were people that Josie wasn't too familiar with, and, thankfully, hadn't been killed by anyone in particular. She expected the next couple of announced deaths to be few and far-between.. Maybe accidental or something. People really couldn't be playing this game, could they?

But the next death knocked the breath out of Josie. Warren Brown.. She had seen the guy around, but it wasn't his death that surprised her. It was the boy who killed him... "Omar Burton shot him in the chest with his own gun... own gun... own gun... Omar Burton.. Omar. Omar. Omar. Josie gasped audibly and tightened her grip on Sierra's arm. Her other hand immediately went up to her mouth. "Jesus Christ!"

She looked over at her best friend in shock, all the other names going through one ear and out the other. Every other death seemed minuscule compared to this one, because... This was a boy that she knew! This was a boy that she knew very well, as her best friend was dating him! Josie was shocked beyond belief and couldn't find anything to say to Sierra. She was probably equally as shocked. Looking down at the ground, she removed her hand from Sierra's arm and began to fidget with the collar of her shirt.

How could this be? How could this fucking be? Sure, there were probably a thousand explanations for the death of Warren, but who would know the truth? If Omar really was a cold-blooded murderer, he might also be a cold-blooded liar. But why would he SHOOT someone? Maybe it was self-defense! Maybe Warren attacked him first... Too many thoughts were ricocheting in her head. She wanted to sit down.

Josie had just been stopped dead in her tracks. Sierra and Josie were planning to go about the island search for Omar, and now.. now.. He was a murderer! Hell no! Finding Omar was the last thing that Josie wanted to do now! She felt as if she was being unfair about this whole thing. Perhaps it really was an accident or something. The announcement was vague on detail, and.. maybe Danya was fucked up enough to twist these details. It was a possibility.

"Jesus Christ.." she groaned, looking up from the ground. She became vaguely aware of Danya's voice mentioning the deaths of Maria and Tony and Amber. Then there were the names of killers like Steffan and Jackie and Kris and Colin. Josie would have been more surprised if she wasn't dealing with the initial shock of hearing Omar's name on the announcement.

A girl yelling jarred Josie from her thoughts. She ran a hand through her bright crimson hair and looked over towards the bridge. A girl, apparently named Janet V was yelling to another girl. The other girl, Ema, was standing atop the bridge and waving. Josie let out a slight sigh of relief at the sight. Things could have been much worse. They could have ran into a gunfight or something, but the two girls didn't appear dangerous at all.

Josie decided that she could afford to put her guard down a little and approach these two. Looking over at Sierra, the red-head took a step towards the girls and watched them carefully. "H-..Hey," she said in a slightly scratchy voice. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Hey." She nodded at the girls and took a few steps closer. "It's Josie. And.." She peeked back at Sierra. "Sierra. H-..How are you guys holding up?" she asked, although it sounded very forced and nervous.

Even in Survival of the Fittest, Josie still royally sucked at starting conversations.
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"Sure thing, Dog Moon."
[ *  * ]
Janet ran up to the edge of the bridge to meet with Ema.

"I can't believe it, I've finally found someone on this ghost island." Being as pleased as she was to finally see another human being, Janet instinctively wrapped her arms around Ema and hugged for for a second before releasing. "Well... Here we are I guess... Survival of the Fittest... Kill or be killed..." Janet listed off thee lines nervously. "Still, you seem to be in one piece, that's a good thing." Janet was desperate to start up a conversation with this girl and wrapped her brain for a topic and after about ten seconds of silence, she thought of one. "So what's your name." Again, Janet nervously laughed off this question.

"Hey!" Another voice attracted Janet's attention, she saw more people approaching, she didn't know whether or not to respond. "It's Josie and..." Josie... That wasn't a name that Janet recognised. "Sierra... H- How are you guys holding up?" Sierra... Now that name sounded rather familiar, perhaps someone she had seen in school or something. She decided to give them a hand, she realised that everyone needed to survive and what could she do but help them out.

"We're just fine, thanks. Don't worry, we won't hurt you. I'm Janet by the way and this is..." Janet embarrassingly remembered that she still hadn't received an answer for her previous name question. She turned to Ema and whispered. "What did you say your name was?"
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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
(Ema hits the inactive mark tomorrow, so apologies to Mimi, but I'mma have to break the order at this point.)

"I can't believe it, I've finally found someone on this ghost island."

Had she not hopped down from the side of the bridge to meet Janet on the other side of the river, Ema probably would've been knocked over by the unexpected embrace. Not just that she hadn't seen it coming in the context of Survival of the Fittest, but also that she hadn't expected anyone to be pleased to see her, what with being a relative unknown to all but perhaps three people, and therefore instantly a point of doubt and suspicion.

So running into someone that was glad for the small comfort that Ema wasn't wielding a big dangerous implement of death and destruction was quite comforting for Ema herself. Someone that would see her as another victim like themselves, not a wild card that could turn around and murder them any minute. Fat chance, with the piece of crap "weapon" she'd been dealt. And then Janet let go, and spoke again.

"Well... Here we are I guess... Survival of the Fittest... Kill or be killed..."

Had Janet not released her, Ema would've pulled free of her own volition at that one. "Goddamnit, think Ema!" was the first thought in her head. The second was largely the same. "You just went and let her get to point-blank range and grab you! Fuck!"

"So what's your name?"

Luckily for Ema, the other girl didn't seem intent on running up and knifing her. Gawd she hated the people that did that. Such a cheap tactic, especially with those damn superhuman ninja perks, just makes it almost impossible to shoot them down before they get into the absurdly wide stab radius... Wait, did Janet say something? For the second time in less than a minute, Ema berated herself for her lapse in caution. First she let someone get within lethal range, then she zoned out again in the middle of someone talking, potentially saying something important.

Ema began to apologise, meaning to ask Janet to repeat herself. But then some more people showed up, handily covering for her non-answer. Josie and Sierra they were, apparently. Didn't look particularly threatening to Ema, what with the nervous stutter and the grime that was clearly not from fighting. So she stood her ground, and she waited to find out what they wanted; if they wanted anything at all.

"We're just fine, thanks. Don't worry, we won't hurt you. I'm Janet by the way and this is..."

Helpfully, Janet had decided to pick up the conversation for her, taking away any need to exercise her scratchy vocal chords, or to engage her mind enough to come up with some coherent speech. Weird scratchy voice happened to her a lot.

"What did you say your name was?"

Before Ema had a chance to go off on a mental tangent about her unreliable diction, Janet spoke again, giving the fatigued girl no choice but to speak up. She coughed, clearing her thoat - seemed to help, that and drinking stuff - and, after a few "Eh" sounds and further throat-clears, managed "Ema, um, Ema Ryan."
There. Wasn't so hard, really. Turns out all it takes is a bit of willpower and clearing of the throat. And someone to force your hand... Yup, before she knew it, Ema's eyes were glazed over in that manner oh-so-familiar to those that knew her - she was off on another meaningless line of thought.
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.


Riley Moon appreciates that Action Needs an Audience, but it's hard not to watch. Hair Status: Bubblegum Pink
Parallel with: The Heavy Weapons Guy

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it was a graveyard smash
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Same with me. Posting as Josie to keep her from going inactive and I'll delete the prior OOC conversation afterwards.))

Josie examined Janet with curiosity and listened as she said Sierra's name and asked how they were holding up. She wondered if Janet and Sierra knew each other, but Josie couldn't say that she had ever spoken to this Janet character before. She seemed nice, though. With a shrug, Josie responded, "Decent. Better than most, I assume. What about yourself?" she asked, somewhat amazed that she was able to answer a question and throw back the same question as if she weren't a socially-inept Awkward-Myrtle.

Janet replied that they were fine and reassured her that they wouldn't hurt them. Josie nodded and offered a very slight smile. It was somewhat weary, yet genuine. "Likewise. We're not hostile. Nice to meet you, Janet." She turned towards the other girl that Janet was addressing. The girl proceeded to clear her throat a few times and, finally after what seemed like forever, introduced herself as Ema Ryan. "Cool," Josie responded, absently dragging her foot across the dirt and creating a line that she quickly swept away in a matter of seconds. She, like Ema, wasn't really paying attention right now. She was focused on drawing lines in the dirt and not aware of that dreaded silence that fell over the small group.

When she looked up, she realized that something needed to be said. They couldn't just stand here and gawk at each other like a bunch of idiots. Perhaps Ema and Janet wanted Sierra and Josie to take a hike? Perhaps they wanted to form into some sort of protective group? She had no idea, really. What did most people do in Survival of the Fittest? She considered cracking open the handbook that came in her designated duffel bag but refrained. It probably just said a bunch of garbage, slapped together much like the weapon she had been given.

While thinking of something to contribute, Josie couldn't help but realize how lucky she was. She had come across two reasonably nice girls who weren't too scared or unstable or murderous. She didn't think there would be too many people like herself and Sierra.. There would probably be people like Omar out there. Wait. She reminded herself not to think about Omar. She didn't know his situation. He could be innocent for all she knew.

Her luck, however, was undeniable. She didn't want to just lose these girls and walk away. They could be partners or something. Passing another look at Janet and Ema, Josie added in a slightly nervous-sounding voice, "I don't want to jump the gun here, but.. Did anyone get anything decent?" she asked. "I got a birthday invitation, so I'm out of the running for Most Threatening Contender."

She offered a nervous smile, but she was aware that these girls could take her simple question as a threat, so she tried to remain calm. She didn't want Ema and Janet to think that Josie was looking for protection or planned to steal their weaponry when they weren't looking. Oh, hell no! Josie could never let anyone else protect her, especially if she promised herself that she was protecting Sierra! She couldn't allow that! And if she considered herself anything, it was honest. She would never bring herself to steal... from anyone alive, at least. "I was just wonderin'," she added, pulling out the invite to show to the others.

Now it was out of the bag that she was practically defenseless, but she wasn't going to lie. Lying could get her killed. It could also save her life in a pinch, but she saw no reason to lie to these two seemingly innocent girls.
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"Sure thing, Dog Moon."
[ *  * ]
((Likewise))

Janet was pleased that she was starting to form a group of people together, she didn't know what exactly they would be doing but one of the many things she learnt from her experience with her Dad is that there was strength in numbers; so as long as no-one turned on her, she should be aright. Not that she expected these two girls to be the type of people who would even hurt a fly, at least as far as Janet could tell.

"I don't want to jump the gun here, but.. Did anyone get anything decent? I got a birthday invitation, so I'm out of the running for Most Threatening Contender."

Of course! It suddenly occurred to Janet that everyone in SOTF got a weapon; she had completely forgot about that until now. "What have I got? Well actually I haven't actually checked yet, hold on..." Janet took her bag off her back and started to search it, rummaging around with one hand and holding it in the other. She felt a few packets of food, a few bottles of water, a first aid kit, a small booklet and something strange, that must have been her weapon. She pulled it out hoping for something that she could use for survival, not to kill anyone but perhaps something she could use as some sort of make-shift camping equipment.

When she took out her 'weapon' she almost screamed at the sight of it. She dropped it on the floor in shook along with her bag. "Ffff... What the hell kind of weapon is that." Janet had seen one of those things before on a website that one of her friends had linked to her as a joke. She was not amused at the time and she was even less amused now. "Seriously? I can't go around with that, I don't know where it's been!" She gave the disgusting object a small kick away from her and it started to vibrate violently. "What on Earth can use this for?" Janet stared at her weapon, lying on the grass in the middle of the circle.
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are you upset?
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
[[OOC: Ack guys, I’m sooo sorry. I pinky promise (you can’t break a pinky promise—they’re sacred!) I’ll post more regularly. So pleeeease don’t hold it against me.<3 You guys have full permission to yell at me if I take too long!]]

[[Sierra Manning continued from We Are The Sleepyheads]]

They were hopeful leaving the cliffs, the weight hanging above them letting up more and more as it disappeared into the background. They were hopeful walking along the coastline, Sierra even dared to take off her shoes and relish the sand beneath her feet as the salty water tickled at her piggies. She’d always wanted to go to the beach, so at least she got to do that before… y’know. Even when the sun had set and the unnerving dark expanse left them huddled under a rotting oak tree, partially to escape the bitter cold and partially out of fear for what could be lurking—they were hopeful. But, in a way, hope was like fire. You could spend hours trying to start it and hours tending to it, stoking it, feeding it all the wood you could find, but with a breeze strong enough it was gone.

Omar Burton shot him in the chest with his own gun.

Josie knew. Josie knew she was trying to be strong, trying with everything in her not to cry. And as far as Josie knew, she didn’t. Instead, she muffled everything—pushing Skany-Blanky against her face with what little force she could muster. Her insides felt like they were being torn apart, falling heavily into the pit of her stomach. It was hard to breathe, coming out instead in muffled rasps. She couldn’t even be sure if she wanted to breathe anymore, honestly. Omar was a killer. Her Omar. The same Omar who talked to her for hours at night when she couldn’t sleep. The same Omar who brought her chicken soup when she was sick. Her Omar, the same boy she pictured herself next to on her wedding day.

Not her Omar. Warren probably attacked him. Omar probably had to defend himself and he was probably, she knew Omar in and out and he wasn’t like that. Warren was in a band and rockstars are usually really violent, right? Maybe, maybe he decided to play and Omar was the first person he saw. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, her Omar. He wouldn’t. He was just scared. He was scared and he needed her.

We’re coming, Omar.
Please don’t be different.
Be the same Omar, okay?

Sierra could feel herself shrinking behind Josie as they approached the two girls. Her bones rattled against her skin, a reaction that had failed to cease after the announcements. A shrinking violet that would have been glad to be absorbed by the Earth at that point in time. Her hand squeezed Josie’s, who thankfully took the lead. She only numbly listened as they talked, failing to make eye contact with either girl.

Say something.

Even as Josie extended the olive branch, she couldn’t force herself to speak up. She averted her eyes as Janet’s… y’know fell to the ground and wriggled around sickly in the wet grass.

Say something.

Her throat suddenly felt incredibly tight, the hairs on the back of her neck springing to attention.

“I…”

In an instant, Sierra lurched to the side and expelled what little content she had in her stomach. Her head felt uncharacteristically light, her cheeks burned with the fever that had over-taken her body, though she could’ve sworn it was due to the overwhelming embarrassment.

“I don’t feel good,” She croaked, meekly rubbing the bile off her face with the sleeve of her jacket.

Where are you Omar?
Edited by Mimi, Oct 8 2010, 08:06 PM.

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IDDQD
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Steven Hunt continued from Words Can't Bring Me Down))

We ride together!
We die together!


The final lines of Franz Ferdinand's Bite Hard seemed to be dancing about Steven Hunt's mind. Particularly the word "Die." Fortunately for him, they hadn't taken away his iPod on capturing him on the island, though his cellphone had met an unfortunate end. They thought it particularly funny leaving a few distinct plastic pieces in his duffel bag, just to piss him off. It was probably a bad idea to listen to music while he should probably be listening for anyone sneaking up on him... but honestly, he doubted anyone was at the point of sneaking up and murdering anyone in sight just yet.

That is, until a faint crackling noise brought him out of his scottish alt rock induced stupor. He pulled the headphones away from his ears and listened to the announcement. The deaths of the past day or so. The death of Eric Lorenz by Alex Rasputin struck a nerve. Steven watched it happen. It seems Alex went and killed another student with a chainsaw. How the fuck that psycho got a chainsaw, Steven didn't want to know. How did he even manage to just off and kill two people in a day?!

Alex, if I see you again it's going to get fucking ugly.

Steven couldn't recognize many of the names that were listed in the announcements - It was a big school, the senior class even moreso. He knew a few of them, but it didn't evoke many feelings other than discontent with his current situation. It was almost too surreal to actually register with him. At any moment he could die, but Steven knew that he wouldn't really feel any sense of imminent death until it was... well, imminent. The fear only appeared when the threat to his life was actually visually apparent. It was always that way. He'd go skiing down a steep hill, only to get scared mid-way down it. Of course, there was always the collar on his neck that could go at any...

No. Not thinking about that.

Steven looked down at the iPod. It was on shuffle, and "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" was now thirty seconds into playing. With a slight grin, he turned it off and wrapped the headphones around it before sliding it into the inner pocket of his jacket. The grin disappeared when he once again saw the large knife attached to his belt.

It was worth noting that with all of the dead on the island, there were certain to be a good number of killers (discounting suicides). As the thought of someone stalking him crossed his mind, Steven opened the duffel bag and pulled out the cricket bat he was assigned as a weapon. If Simon Pegg could peg (Oh, i'm so witty) zombies with it, surely Steven could disable any potential attackers with it. After watching a few episodes of Brainiac, Steven had discovered that cricket bats were actually more useful for destroying things than baseball bats were. Though, if you wanted to cause damage to a specific area, a golf club was the way to go.

"Oh, the lovely thoughts that go through my mind. I wish I had a gun. At least I can use those with some degree of confidence. The one good thing about moving to The States. The guns. Of course, if I hadn't moved here I probably would be at home making myself a sandwich and getting laid. At the same time. Hah! In a perfect world, at least. Though, that would be kind of difficult. I mean, maybe if I was on the bottom but at the same time it would be pretty hard to concentrate. It'd make more sense if I I made it afterwards... Damn, I want a sandwich now. I should probably stop talking..."

Or someone will hear me, and hurt me. That wouldn't be fun. Not like hox sex followed by a sandwich.

It was then Steven realized that in the mid-point of his ramble to himself he'd stumbled upon a group of people gathered at a small stone bridge. He supposed he should probably keep his head up from now on, instead of staring at the ground. Now that his head was up, however, he realized that he didn't recognize a single one of them. He probably looked like an odd sight - he hadn't shaved before the trip and was looking a bit disheveled, coupled with his near-black purple hair, cricket bat, and army surplus jacket. He faintly waved in greeting.

"G'd afternoon."

((I'm aware that Mimi still has to post, I'm just trying to avoid inactivity and I left the identities of the group intentionally vague.))
Edited by Shiola, Oct 7 2010, 05:00 PM.
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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
"Cool,"

...
...
...
An awkward silence descended. Perhaps it came as a surprise to the others, but Ema was used to that happening by now. She'd only recently started to fix her habit of saying stupid things that made people shut up and gawk. Still, familiar as it was, the silence was uncomfortable, even after the sleepless hours of silence Ema had just sat through. She felt she should say something, anything, at least to have some sound in the air. Josie beat her to it.

"I don't want to jump the gun here, but.. Did anyone get anything decent?"

Oh god. Speaking of saying stupid things that make people uncomfortable, that question had the potential to go somewhere horrible. Assuming she was talking about weapon assignments, at least. Turned out she was.

"I got a birthday invitation, so I'm out of the running for Most Threatening Contender."

Well, at least it wasn't a crafty attempt to see if she had an advantage. If it had been, Josie would've been the last person to show what she had, and... hell, she wouldn't have a birthday invitation to reveal, she'd have a real weapon. Relief. Apparently Ema must not have been the only relieved one, for although Sierra remained decidedly silent, Janet hastened to find her own "weapon".

"I was just wonderin'," was quickly added to the statement, presumably because Josie had rethought her own words, and come to a similar conclusion to Ema as to how they must've sounded. She produced the invite as well, to prove her point. And then hilarity ensued, for Janet had found... well, she'd found something.

For the first time in quite a while, Ema literally burst out laughing. Janet screamed, and dropped what looked like a large dildo on the floor. Still giggling, the suspicion was confirmed when the other girl kicked it, which only served to make the offending phallus vibrate loudly, moving across the floor slightly.

"What on Earth can use this for?"

Ema's throat, miraculously cleared of scratchyness by the laughter, near-instantly replied with a sarcastic "Oh, I can think of a few things", accompanied by rapidly moving eyebrows. For just a moment, she even caught herself thinking "Say what you want about Danya, but damn does the fat bastard have a sense of humour."

She shook her head, dispelling the thought. No, Danya had done it for spite, not humour. A little time-bomb of debilitating embarassment as well as a useless weapon, luckily gone off before it could do any real harm. Reaching into her own daypack, trying to find where she'd stashed her own useless weapon, Ema managed to get halfway through jokingly offering "I'll trade you my ti--", before Sierra cut off the "--me turner for it." by throwing up.

"I don't feel good,"

Well no shit, Sherlock, you just hurled all over the grass. Well, not all over, it wasn't that much, she probably hadn't eaten much over the last two days.

"G'd afternoon."

And what a time for someone new to show up. Ema's disposition had quickly gone south, from laughing aloud at a stupid weapon, to realising what it represented, to realising that the four of them were discussing their chances of surviving the coming days, to witnessing someone be physically sick right in front of her. The night she'd spent there was bad enough, but now Ema was quite sure she didn't want to be on that logging road any more, things had gotten very weird, very quickly, as far as she was concerned.

Looking at the afternoon sun, slowly sinking into the west, Ema recalled from her map that she was somewhere in the centre-north of the island. If she cut through the cleared out forest to the south, and headed past the mountains, she was sure she'd come across a big house of some kind. She had no idea what she hoped to find there, but it had to be better than the open road. Not only had the conversation turned weird, but she felt vulnerable in the open as she was, particularly not having noticed Steven Hunt approaching until he'd actually greeted them. She wanted to leave, maybe find a comfortable bed in the mansion, or relax in the sea on one of the sandy beaches.

In all honesty, Ema didn't know what she wanted to do any more. What she did know was that she didn't want to be where she was any more. "Good day to you too." was all she had to say in reply to Steven, a rather unintentionally snarky edge to her voice not helped by the paraphrasing of his own words, before she adjusted her two bags on her shoulders, and set off for the south.

[Ema Ryan --> Sorry, Mom. Sorry, God.]
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.


Riley Moon appreciates that Action Needs an Audience, but it's hard not to watch. Hair Status: Bubblegum Pink
Parallel with: The Heavy Weapons Guy

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it was a graveyard smash
[ *  *  *  * ]
Josie watched quietly as Janet dug through her bag for her weapon. She wasn't sure what to expect, really. In a sense, she sort of hoped that Janet drew something good. It would at least make up for the shoddy 'weapon' that she had. But... what if Janet's weapon was so good that she decided to waste everyone right here and now? If she had a gun or something equally as powerful, it was a possibility. A slim possibility, but a possibility nonetheless.

Did that mean that Josie wished for Janet to have something useless? Well, not exactly. A gun would be nice, extremely nice, but... it caused Josie to feel uncomfortable. Maybe a melee weapon would be nice. Not too bad, right? But.. still deadly. She shook her head and forced herself to stop worrying over someone else's weapon. It was none of her business what Janet had in her bag or how she used it. "I just hope she won't use it on me."

"..Snnk... Haahahahaha!"

Josie let out the breath she had been holding in the form of a giant, raucous laugh. She couldn't even help it. It was just too ridiculous, especially the way it began to vibrate as Janet kicked it. "Oh my god! I'm s-sorry, but.." Maybe she was going into hysterics, but Josie couldn't stop laughing. She squeezed her eyes shut and knelt down a little, her giggles unceasing. She could barely breath! She looked over and realized that Ema was reacting in a similar way. Thank god. At least Josie wouldn't look like the goofball.

"A vibrating dildo and an invitation! Sounds like a fucking PARTY!" Josie shouted out. She was seconds away from rolling around on the ground like an idiot, but she managed to compose herself after a few straight minutes of laughing. It wasn't that funny, she realized. "I.. Uh.. I dunno what you can do with it, but.." She let out another breath and forced the smile off her face. "I guess it's not going to be a great weapon.."

The sound of her best friend puking brought Josie back to reality.

"Oh shit, are you okay, Sierra?!" Josie demanded, turning to face her friend. She planted her hands firmly on Sierra's shoulders and looked her in the eyes, a concerned look dominating her face. "Y-You don't look good either.. Here, sit down. Sit!" Josie commanded, pointing down to a nearby log. She zipped open her own bag and pulled out a fresh bottle of water, breaking the seal and handing it to Sierra. "Water. Drink it," she told her friend softly, her concerned look not wavering for a second.

Josie sighed and brushed her sweaty red hair away from her forehead. She was sure that Sierra would be just fine, but.. it really bothered her to see her best friend in such a way. She was used to the fun Sierra. She was used to the giggly, bubbly, and hilarious Sierra. Shopping at the mall, trying on crazy clothes, listening to ridiculous CD's.. That's what Josie did with her friend. Not... this. She wasn't used to seeing Sierra upset, stressed, heartbroken... It made Josie feel the same way, but she knew that she had to keep her chin up.

She couldn't feel the same way as Sierra. She had to protect Sierra. She had to keep her head empty and sane. No overbearing emotions to deter her mission. "One mistake and I can lose more than just my life.. I could lose both of ours," she thought to herself, staring down at the ground.

"Damn, I want a sandwich now. I should probably stop talking..."

Josie heard a faint voice speaking in the distance. She could just barely hear the mutterings of a want for sandwiches. Shaking her head, she squinted her eyes and peered out in the direction of the masculine voice. A boy was coming towards them, armed with a cricket bat. It didn't look too terribly menacing, but Josie still took a step back. A second passed before she managed to respond, "Is it really a good afternoon? Looks like a fucking terrible one to me."

But things could be worse. At least she had Sierra. At least she wasn't injured. At least she wasn't dead. At least she hadn't met any killers or corpses. Maybe it was a good afternoon?

"Never mind."

Josie looked over at Ema as she greeted Steven and then took off. Josie's jaw dropped, and she watched as the girl disappeared from view. "E..Ema?" she called weakly, but it was too late. She was gone. "Damn, what happened? Did I say something weird..? Maybe Ema didn't want to share what kind of weapon she had.."

Josie sighed loudly and looked back at Sierra, Steven, and Janet. "I guess she's gone," she muttered, scratching the back of her dyed-red head.
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"Sure thing, Dog Moon."
[ *  * ]
Janet watched as the group laughed at her expense; but then if this was the worst thing that was going to happen on this island, she should consider herself lucky. It was at that moment that the sound of Sierra throwing up that stopped everyone laughing at her as they focused on her. Janet eye-balled the vibrating object on the ground; she would have to get rid of it and she saw this moment as the best opportunity to do so. So she positioned herself parallel to the rive and gave it a kick. It landed directly on the edge of the river. Drat, that wasn't good enough. Janet walked up to the edge of the river and tried to give he weapon an encouraging final kick into the river.

Unfortunately, what Janet had failed to take into account was just how unstable the ground at the edge of the river was, and as she raised her foot to do away with her weapon once and for all, she felt instantly off-balance, she rocked uneasily and fell screaming into the river. It was deeper then she had expected and the current was stronger, she was quickly whisked away down the current, making spluttered screaming sounds as she went. She tried to fight the current but her heavy bag pulled her down. She tried to unstrap herself but it was no use. The dirty river water had disfigured her vision and the feeling in her arms was rapidly decreasing.

In the minute and seven seconds that it took to drown Janet gave her time to think: Could this be what her brother wanted, is this her punishment for sending her brother to a watery grave. She knew that she had to stop blaming herself but right now it didn't matter. She had to try to save herself. She could just about move her shoulders out from under her bag, then she could get some air, but she could only make small struggled movements, and each time she tried the movement made lessened. She gave up, everything started to go black. Just before her human body failed her completely, she saw the silhouette of another body, it looked almost exactly like her brother. But how could she tell? Her body was already filled to bursting with river water and her lungs had given up completely, she limply opened her mouth and a few small air bubbles floated to the surface.

G124 - JANET VICTORIEE-SER: DECEASED

"Oh Janet, Janet, Janet; you didn't think that I actually blamed you, did you?"
Edited by Limisios, Oct 17 2010, 10:20 AM.
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IDDQD
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Steven could only really sigh complacently as the group at the bridge didn't seem to take much notice of his presence; at least, they didn't act like it. It didn't really matter too much; until they were finished doing... whatever it was they were doing (they seemed to be discussing, if not seeming to laugh at something) he could maybe speak up, try and place where he might have known them from and...

Well, what was he really going to do with them? Groups were a dumb idea; even if you all survived you'd have to kill each other anyways. It wasn't really the nicest thought in the world, and Steven would be bound to bring it up at some point while they moved about the island. No, a group was a better idea. It would be best, for the time being, to try and save his own skin before he could afford to help anyone else.

Yeah, it was a rather selfish way of thinking, but the situation called for it. If you didn't have your own life within your control, what did you have?

Nothing. You've got nothing, because your life isn't in your control. It's in theirs.

Almost to accentuate that thought, Steven soon noticed a girl suddenly tumble into the river. He didn't see how, but she seemed to be swept away in the stream at an almost unnatural speed. Initially he took a few steps towards the river, but his conscious mind stopped him. If it took her away that quickly, he wouldn't have a chance.

So, Steven looked on at the girl, now motionless, floating downstream. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't. The words just didn't form.
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it was a graveyard smash
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Sorry for skipping you Mimi, just saving Josie from inactivity.))

The sound of the vibrating dildo was overpowered by the sound of a frantic scream. Josie quickly looked away from Sierra and glanced over at the edge of the river where Janet was standing there just moments before. But now... there was no Janet. "Oh shit!" Josie yelled, dashing over to the side of the river. Janet had fallen into the river! Josie's heart clenched tightly as she tried to get as close to the edge of the river as she could without falling in herself. She looked down and took note of the unstable ground beneath her.

Oh, Jesus Christ Almighty. Janet would be okay, wouldn't she? It was just a river. Janet would right herself and swim back to shore. Janet would be A-okay. Janet would... Oh FUCK! She can't get her backpack off! She was being whisked away down the river! Josie felt powerless, staring at the drowning girl as she was being pulled farther and farther away. She tried to recall any advice that she may have been given about drowning victims.. Wasn't she told something about water safety during her swimming lessons in fourth grade?

But swimming lessons in fourth grade couldn't prepare her for this. She only remembered one piece of advice, stay calm, but.. Josie couldn't stay calm. "J-Janet!" she screamed, her voice cracking. She kept looking back and forth from Sierra to Janet, who was becoming smaller and smaller as the river roughly had its way with her.

Should she jump in? Hell, Josie wasn't a strong swimmer either. "Janet, hang on!" Josie screamed, her body shaking violently as she looked around for something to help her. She was looking for a branch or, or, or... something! Anything to save Janet!

Josie didn't see anything. She was alone with nothing to save this girl she just met. No life jacket. No flotation devices. It looked like she would just have to jump in and save the girl, hoping that everything would go okay. Hoping that Janet wouldn't pull Josie under in her panic, drowning both of them.

Josie quickly looked back at Janet, just seconds away from jumping into the river, and...

Janet was a corpse. A body. A cadaver. Nobody home. Dead. No longer alive. Just floating there like a grotesque representation of FAILURE! Way to go, Josie. You couldn't save a fucking life, and it was so easy to save. She sunk down to her knees, buried her head in her hands, and let out a choked sob. After a few straight minutes of crying, Josie wiped her eyes carefully, as to not smudge her heavy makeup, and looked over at the two near her, Sierra and Steven.

"Sh.. She's dead," Josie stated, as if it wasn't obvious. She took in a deep, ragged breath and stood up, looking back at the body. "One of the first people I meet in this fucking game, and she's dead. I should have done something!" she yelled, slamming her fist into a conveniently-placed tree. A sharp pain electrified her hand, but she didn't flinch or mutter an 'owwie.' She was consumed with thoughts of Janet.. dead within a single minute.

"I should have done something," Josie repeated. As if to take her mind elsewhere, she leaned down and plucked the birthday invitation from its place inside her pack. She examined the front and back of the card, a stray tear sliding down her cheek. She flipped the card over and muttered, "Seriously, I should have done something. So stupid."

Sniffing loudly, Josie returned the card to her bag and looked over at Steven. They had spoke briefly before Janet's... death... but she realized that she didn't know much about the guy. She couldn't even recall seeing him around school much. Maybe Josie had math class with him or something? Was that where she'd recognized him? High school seemed so far away and distant. Was that really mere days ago? "You're Steven, right?" she asked, wiping her wet cheeks.

She felt a little silly, and she wasn't even sure why. She was on an island where death was the main goal. All of her classmates (or at least most) had been given dangerous weapons.. and yet, she stood here, so affected by a drowning. This could be a blessing. Drowning could be one of the better ways to die.. Everyone was going to die here; everyone except for a single lucky person, anyway. Perhaps drowning was favorable over being maimed, shot, stabbed, beaten, beheaded, disembowled? With this thought, Josie was able to pull herself back together. Not completely, but it was enough to ground her. Just enough to stabilize her shaken mind.
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