Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Survival of the Fittest, a RPing board loosely based off of Koshun Takami's Battle Royale, with its own unique plot and spin on the 'deadly game'. We've been around quite a while, and are now in our thirteenth year, so don't worry about us going anywhere any time soon!

If you're a newcomer and interested in joining, then please make sure you check out the rules. You may also want to read the FAQ, introduce yourself and stop by the chat to meet some of our members. If you're still not quite sure where to start, then we have a great New Member's Guide with a lot of useful information about getting going. Don't hesitate to PM a member of staff (they have purple usernames) if you have any questions about SOTF and how to get started!

Let the games begin!

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Day of the Dove; Day 3 : Sunset. Open
Topic Started: Oct 10 2010, 08:45 PM (4,041 Views)
ifnotwinter
Member Avatar
half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Winsome Clark continued from Accidental Acrophobia))

When Winnie had first fled the scene in the woods, leaving behind guns and screaming students, there had been nothing on her mind but the all-consuming need to escape. Her headlong rush had taken her deeper into the trees, until eventually a tree root, sticking out at the perfect angle, had sent her careening into the ground. The indignity of falling combined with the rush of adrenaline through her veins and the still-open wound slicing across her chest overloaded her emotional barriers once more, and she curled into a tight ball, sobbing silently into her arms.

After that, things had changed.

Winnie drifted around the island, sticking to the woods, avoiding other students like the plague. Gunshots splitting the air would send her burrowing into the ground almost like an animal, using the drifts of old leaves, mulch, and tree branches to cover her body. She had lost her pack back at the tree she had fallen from, but she scavenged the water from another abandoned bag along with a loaf of bread. She was not particularly hungry, but recognized that at least a portion of the hollow, desperate feeling tightening her middle went away when she ate. The cut on her chest clotted, scabbed over, somehow escaping infection while still breaking open occasionally. The T-shirt Thea had given her hung loose on her tiny frame.

Now, somehow, she had emerged from the woods. She was exhausted. The sounds of fighting were more frequent, now, the announcements splitting the air loudly. Her water had finally run out - this day? The day before? She wasn't sure. She pushed limp, greasy hair out of her eyes, stumbling forwards. She could hear students up ahead, and the dry feeling in the back of her throat was driving her towards the sources of water. Perhaps she could steal a bag. Or just a bottle. Shouldn't join with them, bad things happen then.

Dirty, foot-sore, shirt stained with leaves and blood, Winnie slunk closer to the group, desperation outweighing the need for silence. Her lips parted and she made a soft, frantic noise, coming forwards another few feet.

Please let them not notice. Please...


marc st. yves


light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire


lydia hausen


if you don't look down you don't have to fall

sebastian conway


everything will be okay in the end


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
ifnotwinter
Member Avatar
half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
They had noticed her.

The thought scurried through Winnie's head as her breath froze in her throat, desperate, panicked, changing her blood to ice-water in her veins. They had noticed her. They had seen her. Unable to move, unable to force her exhausted, terrified limbs into another step, she crouched there, eyes wide, cowering like a deer in headlights. As the boy in front of her called out that he didn't want to hurt her (but he didn't sound convincing and she had heard those words before so many times before before gunshots punches anger killing), she managed to force her feet forwards, stumbling out of the leaves and into the half-light.

Something shone above her head.

A tire iron.

He was holding a tire iron.

Whatever strength had been in her knees left her, and she hit the ground hard, both hands over her head. Not brave. Winsome Clark had never been brave, except in the fantasies she spun. She'd always thought that maybe, when the chips were down, some hidden part of her would emerge, like a hero in an old story. Now she knew that wasn't true. Tears trickled messily from her eyes, making tracks in the dirt. She didn't want to die. She was cold, and tired, and hungry and thirsty and she hurt and she didn't want to die but she was going to, and she didn't know how to understand that.

Someone else was saying something. Shouting. A girl's voice, not one she recognized. Lots of swearing. Was this is? Maybe it would be quick, easy. And then - she could rest. Heaven would be there, and the forgiveness of the Lord for her past transgressions. Maybe that would be better. She could tell herself that.

But she couldn't believe it. She didn't want to die. She cowered further, a messy heap of tangled red hair and a too-big shirt covering the shredded remains of a dress, old blood like chocolate milk stains everywhere, breath coming quick and shallow.

"Please. Please. Please don't. I won't do anything. I promise, I won't - please just don't. Please..."


marc st. yves


light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire


lydia hausen


if you don't look down you don't have to fall

sebastian conway


everything will be okay in the end


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
ifnotwinter
Member Avatar
half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
When the tire iron didn't immediately come arching down at her head, Winnie risked a look upwards. The boy who was threatening her seemed occupied by shouting at the other group, although he remained in a threatening stance. Most of the group seemed occupied by shouting at the guy, so that was okay. And then there was a girl, crawling towards her. Winnie flinched backwards before she could help herself, instinctively drawing up a hand to cover her face before she realizes that the girl wasn't brandishing a weapon. Instead, she held...a water bottle?

Oh merciful God in Heaven, please let it be...

Her prayers were answered as the water bottle rolled towards her, fetching up against her knee with a dull thud. It was full. Winnie barely noticed the girl speaking as she frantically clawed at the top, half-unscrewing, half-pulling it off and gulping at the sweet lifegiving fluid that spilled out. It coursed down both sides of her mouth and splattered unattractively on the T-shirt she wore over the tattered remains of her dress, highlighting the smudges of red blood that had leaked through. She didn't care. It was so good, so good, like nothing she'd ever had before. Perfect. All she wanted to do was drink, but too soon the bottle was empty, a good half of it spilled on the ground.

Suddenly embarrassed, she dipped her head, scratching briefly at the ground as though she could gather the water back up and place it into the bottle. Replacing the lid, she tucked it under her arm and, with another wary look at the boy with the tire iron (who seemed to be now ignoring her) she slunk away from him, taking a circuitous route closer to the girl who had offered the water.

She couldn't quite remember her name. Winnie knew her, but names and faces blurred, now, after three days of this hell. She extended the bottle in a shaking hand, several nails ripped to the quick, liberally spattered with dirt, and dropped it next to the girl instead of passing it over. Another quick look around, darting, like a bird, and she shuffled a couple of feet closer to the one who swore a lot.

That name she knew. Charlie. Yes. With the funny last name. Charlie was sleeping, and oh, but that sounded good to Winnie. She hurt, a slow, building ache in her body centered in the white-hot line down the front of her body. The wound had seemed to be healing, but now it pulsed, pain arching out from it. The water sloshed in her stomach, and she was suddenly very tired. But she couldn't sleep here. Not safe. Nowhere was safe...

The ground seemed very close, and very soft. They had protected her from the boy with the tire iron. Maybe they wouldn't hurt her. It would be better to leave, but when she tried to take a step the ground came up to meet her, and lying there seemed to be the most comfortable thing in the world.

Perhaps just one night of sleep. And everything would seem better. Maybe she would wake up and this would all be a nightmare.

Just a little sleep.

Yes.

Sprawled on the ground, she made one abortive effort to curl up a little further, guarding her chest. As her eyes fluttered shut, her lips moved, not quite whispering but not quite mouthing the familiar words.

Now I lay me down to sleep...


marc st. yves


light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire


lydia hausen


if you don't look down you don't have to fall

sebastian conway


everything will be okay in the end


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
ifnotwinter
Member Avatar
half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
It was the announcement that woke Winnie in the morning, from half remembered dreams of shouts and trees. She was surprised to find herself warmer than usual, but as memory trickled back and she sat up a sweatshirt slid off her shoulders, landing on her knees.

She picked it up curiously. Not hers. Big, quite big. She didn't remember picking it up, but glancing quickly around at the rest of the group, she didn't see anyone who appeared to be looking for it. And it was nice. Cozy. Another stealthy look around, wondering if this would be the worst decision she'd made yet, and Winnie wrapped it around her shoulders, knotting the arms in front of her chest. The shallow slice under her shirt still burned uncomfortably, but at least it didn't seem to have cracked open overnight. That was something.

The announcement was still going on. Voices crackled overhead, voices she didn't want to listen to. She ignored them, settling for crouching low to the ground and watching the group. They didn't apply to her. She didn't remember names, faces, not properly. They wouldn't do her any good. And it wasn't like she knew-

-James?

James Mulzet?

That was a face she remembered. Running into him at school, having an awkward and stilted conversation. He'd helped her pick up her books and had worried that she was okay. And he'd been the face that she'd first seen properly here, close to her own, arms open, asking her to come down. Helping her down from her tree. He'd tried to protect her.

She'd run away from him.

And now he was dead.

Dead.

She wasn't entirely sure what to think. Somewhere, in a corner of her mind, she knew she was screaming. But the sleep had done little to erase the bone-deep exhaustion settling into her skin, the numbing absence of hunger and thirst that left a strange twisted knot inside of her, the heavy cloud that settled over her and told her don't think it.

One of the other girls had apparently heard a name that she recognized. Winnie straightened, ignoring the tears that were trying to squeeze out of her eyes, wiping them with the back of her hand. People were discussing where to go next. She didn't know. She didn't even know that she should stay with them. But they were leaving, now, and for the first time since the first day she felt a stab of pain that had nothing to do with the sword.

They had protected her.

Like James had protected her.

It wasn't quite a run, just a couple of fast steps, and she was caught up. Hovering just behind the loud one, she bowed her head low, tucked the sweater a little farther around her shoulders, and focused her eyes on the feet in front of her. These people had saved her, and this time, she wouldn't run from them. Maybe this time, for the first time in days, she might be able to be safe.

[[Winsome Clark continued in Faraday's Cages]]


marc st. yves


light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire


lydia hausen


if you don't look down you don't have to fall

sebastian conway


everything will be okay in the end


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
« Previous Topic · The Greens · Next Topic »
Add Reply