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Gypsy Rap
Topic Started: Nov 1 2010, 05:29 AM (5,245 Views)
Brackie
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personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Co-written with selphie and Zabriel))

Trinity Catholic College - Lismore: 4 days after abduction on SOTF

~*~

To say that Ryan Hunter's life was becoming rather hectic would have been the understatement of the bloody century. Here he was, 17 going on 18, taking the largest amount of classes in the year, and he was still expected to have a social life by his parents. Not that he had any objections, mind you, but if he had to stay home to finish an assignment, his parents would have none of it. They'd rather have him out and about with friends, than making a fuss over a project that was only going to affect the next 6 months of his life anyway.

Standing outside his Legal Studies classroom, he smiled as the rest of the class started to arrive: James Gatt, Holly Hershenroder, Sophie Boyle, Melanie Teninga, Hannah Hughes, Isabel McDonough, Natasha McGuiness, Gabrielle Wood, and last but not least Jason Powell, the guy who insisted on keeping the subject for the HSC year despite the fact that he was probably the worst possible student in the entire school. He said 'hi' to each of them as they arrived, striking up a small conversation with some of the ones he knew better, making sure to avoid Jason's pathetic attempt at socializing (honestly, Ryan himself had a better social life than him).

Mr. Mulroy arrived soon after, right as the second bell chimed throughout the school, with folders full of paper in his right arm and a mug in the other hand. He was probably the best teacher at the school, in all of their opinions; when he got mad, he got furious, but any other time, he was a delight to speak to.

They filed into class, taking one of the many eclectically placed seats around the classroom to get the best place for his voice. Ryan took the front seat, just to the right, while Isabel sat next to him; James sat next to her, and...the end seat was bare.

Brendan used to sit there, the best seat in the house (mostly because it was the seat that got a swivel chair every so often). He went to America about a year ago, and no one had ever really tried to fill his place. Jason tried, but everyone just ignored him if he did; no matter what they knew of Brendan, he was infinitely better than Jason Powell would ever be.

Ryan brought his laptop case up to the desk, took out his shining new Toshiba laptop he'd only bought the weekend previously. He got it at a bargain on Dstore.com, and he was laughing all the way to the bank: it looked old, it operated old, but that was because, well, he didn't really need anything else that was on the market. This thing could run any program almost as fast as a super computer, and all he had to do was keep the non-vital programs on a portable HDD. That simple, really.

Switching it on, he used the time that Jason spent talking to the teacher, trying to avoid doing any work, to check his emails.

An invite to a Neopets gath-DELETE. He'd given up Neopets when he started high school. Part of him wondered if they were still starving just as he left them...

Approximately 100 notifications of comments, tagging, notifications, and cause appreciations from Facebook. Dammit, he'd been meaning to turn that off. DELETE.

A notice from iTunes informing him that the new episode of Doctor Who was available for purchase. Cool, he wanted to see where Donna was going by the finale. This was gonna be imperative for his collection.

But right before he could click on the link, opening the window for easier readability, he noticed the little rotating arrows that indicated he was receiving a message. It popped up at the top of his little list, and it was a little thing that seemed to confuse him. "Mazumatsuzaki"? Ryan didn't know any Mazumatsuzaki's. He was seconds away from clicking the little box next to the heading and deleting it from his computer, when, looking at the preview, he saw something that piqued his interest.

The content of the message seemed to be far too short for spam or trolling messages.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm so sorry.

http://official-SotF-fansite.co.uk/v4/profiles/B042

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


SotF.....for some reason that sounds familiar...

His curiosity now soaked well beyond the safe level, he clicked on the link.

His browser popped up, a blood red banner greeting his eyes like a splash of paint on white. Link after link after link besieged the top of the page, but most prominent were three pictures on the right side of the banner: a shotgun; a barren island landscape; a...vase? The last one seemed out of place for some reason. Flicking his eyes to the top left, he found an answer to his question:

OFFICIAL SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST FANSITE

Oh great, it is spam mail. Ugh, Survival of the Fittest spam mail, no less. Great, just what I need, someone to see what I'm looking at, and Mr. Mulroy to go off into one of his tangents about it. Doesn't he know it's fake? I mean, how dumb does this person I am to be sucked into such stupid American propoga-

Of course, Ryan's cynical way of thinking was then brought to a halt, as the picture on the page...no, it couldn't have been...

...the picture on the page was of the Australian boy who used to sit at the end of the row of desks.

Glancing at the page name again, he confirmed it. Yes, this was Survival of the Fittest, and yes, this was a page about one of his oldest friends, but...what was with all the links? The forum posts? The embedded Youtube videos? The...slashfic? He didn't even want to KNOW what that entailed...

But the question remained, why was there a page about Brendan Wallace on this Survival of the Fittest si-

....no. No, no it can't be.

*~*

"So I, like, got my project back today, and everyone was all, like 'what'd ya get, what'd ya get!' and I had to, like, show them my fucking E! I mean, I'm, like, the only person in that class to get one! I swear I'm, like, not that dumb! I mean, even Jason got a C, and he's, like, Jason! I swear that Mrs. Evans, like, has it in for me, cause she was all, like, 'Uh, you gotta put more effort into it'! Fuck that, man, I had like a 4 page-bibliography! I put more effort into that stupid fucking project than anyone el-HEY ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?"

Sighing loudly, as loud as anyone could muster in the ruckus that was the TCC outdoor lunch area, Angela Pollock-Jones held her head in her hand as it seemed that the majority of her friends (or so-called friends, in this case) seemed to lose interest in whatever she was saying. Yes, they were gamers, and yes they were male, but it still didn't give them any excuse not to listen to her talk about how much of a bitch Mrs. Evans was. Come on, she wasn't even that bad in class, why couldn't she just like her?

Flicking her head to the side, she decided to continue speaking with her friend Steph, aka, the girl who could run the entire school with a flick of her hair.

"So anyway, I was, like, wondering if you wanted to bring Max over this weekend? We can, like, all go see that movie together! You know, like, that one with all the g-OH HEY RYAN!"

Angela jumped off the metal picnic table (which was truly a feat, considering she was shorter than most people and such a distance would possibly break an arm) and wandered over to the thin, laptop-carrying newcomer, Ryan Hunter.

"So, like, what-cha looking for? Did you have something you, like, you know, wanted to ask-"
"Angela."
"...you look, like, really sick, you know that? You okay Ryan?"

Silently, Ryan placed the laptop at the end of the table, facing most of the people who were currently sitting there. While most of them went back to their lunch, several of the girls and guys who were scattered along the metal bench turned to see what the Youtube video was labeled:

Boy 42 Day 1 Start

Curious as to what could possibly be shown on the laptop, Angela slipped into the lap of her best friend (in a completely non-sexual way, as they do), and watched as the first few seconds started to roll.

Interspersed with several jump cuts, mostly removing the stories of the other students, a groggy Australian boy woke up on what seemed to be an island, before jumping behind a sand bank. Rummaging through his stuff, he flinched as a loud noise echoed off screen. Several minutes later, he was sprawled in the sand with a large gun in his hand, speaking to an Italian girl with purple streaks. Several more minutes later, he was transferring items from one bag to another, right next to a dead body. Even more minutes later, as the video wore on, and people who were passing by stopped to watch as well, they all heard the silent, whispering voice that they all recognized, even from a year ago.

Brendan Wallace.

"...I'm sorry."

And then, the video ended.

Silence. Absolute silence greeted the table, as many of the table's occupants either mouthed wordlessly, smiled nervously, or, in one short, black-haired girl by the name of Angela Pollock-Jones's case, spoke one sentence.

"....oh my god."

Her first ex-boyfriend was going to die.

*~*

((Brendan Wallace continues from Pearl and Destiny))

On the island, 10 hours ago...


"Look, it's bad, yeah, but I don't think it's gonna get any better if I don't get it flowing. I'm not a doctor or anything, but I've done this before. Just...look!"

He was still not used to having to be in a group. Sarah was being very vocal about him not stepping on his wounded leg, no matter how much he insisted that he was doing Stacy a discomfort. Sighing, Brendan scooped down towards the ground, and picked up a rather large tree branch, conveniently placed on the side of the dirt trail that was headed towards the town. Waving it around, tapping it on the ground, he smiled convincingly.

"Look, I won't put weight on it or anything, just let me walk on my own. My foot's feeling a bit better, honestly," Brendan lied. Good thing he was good at that sort of thing, otherwise he'd be in hot water.

Eventually, they relented.

Smiling, he started forward in his limping motion towards the town.

"Okay, so let's go find us a place to stop, okay?" Brendan said, before adjusting the bag on his shoulder again. It was becoming a nervous tic of his, this self-adjustment. He hoped it wouldn't become a give of his or anything.


***


9 hours ago...

Unsurprisingly, once they made it to the town, there were a lot of people. And by a lot of people, he meant a LOT of people, far too many for their liking. From the point they hid now, one of the first houses on the way to town, there were only a few places they could stay. This was also an ideal place to stay, were it not for the fact that there was an extremely large bloodstain smearing from the middle of the hallway to one of the outside doors. He didn't even want to think what had happened there, and he wasn't going to dwell on it. None of them were.

They all agreed: five minutes in that house, find what they needed, and then scram. Sarah went upstairs to find any extra medical supplies, Stacy checked the enclosed back garden, and Brendan checked the downstairs. It was simple, easy, and to the point.

It would have been so much simpler had the terrorists who'd scanned the house not done their job properly.

Brendan needed to find some sort of weapon for Stacy. The fact was, she was defenseless with what weapon she had, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, people were playing. People were killing. People were dying. But he had to step up from that, take the leadership role. He'd made it his duty the moment he fled the clinic to protect Sarah, and this meant keeping them armed.

...god, I'm thinking like a player again...

Checking the fridge, there was nothing. Checking the draws, and the cupboards, nothing still. No cutlery, no knives, not even a wooden spoon. There was literally nothing left in the house that he could use as a weapon. There was a large fireplace, but no pokers. In the small basement, there was a window, but he didn't dare smash it, as he was afraid of glass.

Looking around the room, he thought back to several video games he used to play. There had to be something, in most FPS's you could find a weapon almost anywhere, they were even making games where one could...

...smash something and use the debris, weren't they?

Examining the room, he found the closest object, a large wooden chair. It looked like something that could have been made here, on the island. It was smooth, but still rugged, it was shiny but very old, and, most importantly, looked like it could break very easily.

Unsure of how to exactly do it, Brendan lifted up the chair with both his hands, his lousy walking stick laying lopsidedly against the wall, he gripped a single leg in both hands, raised it like he would a baseball bat, squeezed his eyes shut, and swung with all his might.

*SCHWACK*

Holding what seemed to be a lot less weight in his hand, he peeked through one of his eyes. He had connected the chair with the protruding corner of the room, and miraculously, it shattered in the hallway instead of the room. He was one lucky SOB, really, he could have nearly cut his arm off. Sarah would have a fit then.

Now he just had to explain the noise.

*~~

5 hours later...

After raiding several more houses away from most of the grouped people (Brendan purposely avoided letting Sarah and Stacy head into one of the houses in which he actually found a dead body. They'd seen enough over the last few days for him to spare them that trauma), they left. It was a while, but after vigorously checking every nook and cranny of the houses, they managed to find only blankets, tables, decorations, and nothing much else of use. The terrorists seemed to want them to fend for themselves, and as such the only medical items they had were the stuff that Sarah yanked from the clinic, and their own first aid kits.

Some luck this was turning out to be.

The dirt path in front of them was still the same, and looked even more identical to the last pebble. It was becoming deliriously boring, having to walk so slowly. If his leg were any better, he would be running, but alas he was not. He was stalling the other two up, with his slow hobble coupled with his refusal to be carried.

So eventually, Brendan was getting tired. The sun was starting to dip, and there didn't seem to be anywhere to stop. They had passed by and promptly ignored a large Sawmill, as it seemed to be full of people. Armed people. And one person he did not particularly enjoy meeting again...

As the sun got lower in the sky, the group was starting to pull itself apart. The two girls were tired, and he, basically being the happy-go-lucky leader that he always was, realised they needed to stop. It wouldn't be long now until someone found them, a very tired group, and...decided they had very nice weapons to choose from.

Looking at his map again in frustration, he saw that to his east, and due north, was a forest. It may have been a felled forest, but it was a forest nonetheless. It had cover, and it had wood. They could start a fire, get some sleep, and sing Kumbaya until the whole thing blew over.

Yeah right.

But stopping was still a good idea.

~~~

Now.

It was Brendan's turn to take watch. Sarah had gone back to sleep almost instantly, and Brendan took his seat on the stump, sitting with his back to the crackling fire as it cast a glow over the field of stumps and discarded wood.

It wasn't that hard to make a fire. There was a lighter in the first-aid kit, apparently, and he had always burned garbage in his extensive back yard back in Australia, when the fire warnings weren't in effect. He just had to make sure it wouldn't spread beyond the large amount of discarded wood he found.

Then it just became a matter of surviving the night.

They took turns taking watch. Sitting there, he couldn't really help to wonder what everyone else was up to now. Was Hui Xu okay? Dutchy? Erik? Chase? They had to be, otherwise he would have almost nothing left. Despite his shortcomings, and the chances stacking ever higher that he may never see most of his friends again, he knew he'd made the right choice in following Sarah. He'd saved one life, and that...that was heavy as hell. Heavy shit, yes, but altogether a great choice in hindsight.

He couldn't help but wonder why his leg was still hurting though.

Taking a sharp inhale of breath, not even possibly sure what he faced underneath the cloth, he slowly rolled up his pants leg to take a good look at the bandage covering most of his le-whatingodsnameiswrongwithmyfuckingleg?!

Red. A lot of red. His leg was covered in the bandage, but it didn't seem to be helping one shitbit. Blood was pouring down his leg, slowly, almost systematically.

This was probably the most distressing thing he'd seen all day. He'd seen so much blood, so much people in pain, suffering, crying, that everything in the past was meaningless.

....did this mean he had to get down on his hands and knees and apologize to Sarah now?

Yes, it does. I have to apologize. And then ask her to save my life. Dear god, I'm a very distressing person.

Hobbling up off his stump, by the glow of the fire, he slowly walked over to where Sarah was sleeping. Not sure whether to wake her in her current position, he stood there, curling his lip into his mouth, before speaking. She couldn't be asleep yet for real, could she?

"Uh...Sarah? Sarah! Um...I need help. I'm really, really sorry I told you not to, and....okay, my leg's getting worse. I need stitches."

Brendan did not like the taste of the humility pill. It was far too bitter for his taste.
Edited by Brackie, Dec 27 2010, 10:26 AM.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
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personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Hmm, well if that isn't one of the most adorable things I've seen so f-stay focused Brendan, you're bleeding. No fantasizing, you've got panties for that.

He wasn't really sure how much blood he'd lost over the day, and he was really worried. He wasn't even close to a medical expert like Sarah was, since the only medical show he'd seen was CSI, and even their methods were questionable. But he knew, from Sarah's reaction to it, that it had to be bad.

"Uh, I...I guess I have? I mean, I'm really tired now, but I, um, think that's because we've been on the move for a while, I really dunno. But...yeah, I...ugh, I'm gonna lie down now."

So he did what he was told, and, placing his bag on the log beside him, layed down on the grass below.

It was a weird experience, being in this oddly sexual situation on the ground in the presence of these three girls...no, two girls. Man, he really was dizzy wasn't he? He was lucky that his parents weren't probably watching.

...and then it hit him that it had taken almost 4 days away from them for him to actually think about home.

He'd cared about his friends, every person on the island who was in danger. It was like he was literally in a different world to the world he'd come to live in for the entirity of his life...and failed to think about everyone in the world who'd been watching him back home. He couldn't even bear to think of what he'd seen be done on television, and that was just the tip of the iceburg. He'd never told his parents he swung both ways in regards to his sexual preferences, living in the neighbourhood that he used to, and to think, Lexie and Joseph and Laverne and Ayn and everyone else who couldn't make it or didn't make it, would they find out as well? What could they see of him in this state, and if he ever did persee make it home, would they forgive him for what they'd seen him do? Even worse, the thought of his old friends back in Australia. They'd only find out about this way after he was dead, since SOTF wasn't shown in Australia, and everything was delayed a few days, even games and movies and everything, and...

His entire thought process was running together in a blur that didn't make any sense. He had really lost a lot of blood, huh?

He also, at that point in time, laying on the ground, just realised that he was about to have a girl sitting on top of him.

Stop smiling, you idiot.

Brendan did what his thoughts told him to do and, following that, removed his shoe and sock with his opposing foot.

Laying down by the fire, he could have sworn he saw someone moving in the distance. But he couldn't have been sure, since it was nighttime. It would never have been safe enough anyway, in case they were playing or someone he wished to avoid for the time being.

"Okay. I take it this is gonna hurt, Sarah?"
Edited by Brackie, Nov 8 2010, 04:30 AM.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Much movement later, Stacy was on top of him. She commented about the nature of her position and the fact that he was, probably, enjoying it.

Well, not a lie, really. It was...okay?

Stacy spoke again, commenting on something that Brendan wasn't really sure put her in the right state of mind for something like this.

"You know, you're actually kind of cute."

Brendan couldn't help let out a small laugh at this. It had to be, in the history of man, one of the most inopportune placed comments ever. Really, he went through his whole life with a self-loathing, and now, on the brink of death, another goth girl tells him he's cute?

"Um...thanks, I, suppose?"

That was all Brendan could let out before a shirt was placed over his face. The main feeling he was feeling now was...confusion. Why on earth was this girl giving him all her clothes?

"The less you see, the better. It'll hurt, but hopefully your wound is numb by now."

Oh right, stitching, leg bleeding, all that jazz.

Man, he must have lost a lot of blood over the day, his thoughts were becoming more and more disjointed.

Through the small amount of light that made it through the fabric covering his face, he could hear something. A lighter. Crap, they weren't gonna cauterize it, or whatever it was called? No no no no that couldn't happen! He wasn't gonna have someone burning his skin off! That was just...well, freaking insane!

But as he made out a shape hunched through the shirt over his face, looking around the goth girl sitting on his waist, he realized that she wasn't gonna light his leg on fire. Good thing too. He rather liked it non-burnt. No, it looked like she was lighting something small on fire. Rather than question the situation any more than he had, he leaned back, made sure he really couldn't see, and awaited the pain of stiches.

He'd never really been injured that badly before, really. He'd broken his ankle once, but that was it. He'd only had a cast put on his foot, and weeks, or months later, he'd gotten better. Nothing else really sprung to mind as he lay there, awaiting the pain that was to come.

The pain apparently was taking a while, but he could have sworn he heard something in the background. It wasn't that person, or that shape, from before was it? If they got them now, it would be all over, wouldn't it? Nothing to stop them from just blasting them off the island, 3 more souls to the call.

Suddenly, in mid-thought, he felt the small Asian girl's hand grasp his leg, and the pain truly entered his body once again.

It couldn't and it shouldn't have been worse than before, since his wound had gone slightly numb. But the experience of a hot needle entering the body was by no means something one could laugh off so easily. It burnt. It really fucking burnt, and not just because of the heat that the small metal needle was producing. He'd never gotten close to the concept of sewing the skin back together with a needle and thread like it was some sort of stuffed animal that needed a rework. It wasn't so much it entering his wound that hurt, it was the stinging that proceded it. It was all Brendan could do to stop himself from kicking Sarah, the mistress of his pain. Instead, he clenched the shirt in his mouth by his teeth, and made an almighty noise through the fabric.

Oh jesus, Oh jesus, OH FUCKING JESUS THIS HURTS.

There was nothing in the world that could have stopped him from accidentally jolting his leg up once the next insertion was made. He realised, once the girl's solid grip left his foot, that she hadn't taken the needle with her when she let go. He realised too late that the needle was stuck in his skin. The panic that could have been seen on his face when he realized his idiocy, and froze.

That was stupid. Real smart, Brendan. If you just....stay....still, then she'll get it out.

Brendan stayed still for a long time, until he felt her start again. The normal stinging sensation continued, and then, almost as quick as it began, he felt his skin pulled tight, and the stitching stopped. A quick stinging sensation later, he registered familiarly as iodine on his open wound, it was over.

See? It wasn't really that bad, was it?....Yeah, it was, it really was, who am I kidding?

Unclenching his teeth from the shirt, he removed it from his face and looked at the damage.

It was like he'd slipped into someone else's body, seeing his own flesh and blood tied up like that in a neat little bow. Before he knew it, bandages were being applied, and he fell back relieved onto the ground.

Looking back to where he thought he originally saw someone through an upside-down world, he registered movement again. Stacy called out to whoever it was, but the figure got closer.

Curling his lip, he tried to squint through the fire's light at the outline. Hmm, they looked really familiar. 3 days of living on nothing but the basics had drained his ability to quickly recall even the most familiar of the memory's shapes, but...

...man, he's tall, isn't he? And is that a ponyta-

The figure got closer, and the moon and the firelight fully lit up his face.

.....Erik?

Almost instantly, he spun his head around so that he could see the person through the right degree of vision.

And it was as though his heart was plunged back into his stomach, because the moment he saw the figure fall onto his knees, he was up. Sarah hadn't finished bandaging his leg, Stacy no longer weighing down his waist, and he had even had his own doubts about who they were only mere moments before. But it was...it was indescribable. He was there.

Everything's going to be okay now. He's here, he'll be here, he'll...

As much as the words didn't mean anything to his narrative, he couldn't say anything with his real voice. All he could do was throw his arms around the kneeling figure, who only moments before had seen him on the ground as he was at his weakest and stopped. If there was a soundtrack to his life right now, it would have the sweetest sound in the world.

And the waterworks truly began to flow, without him even realising it was happening, as he buried his head in Erik's neck, his grasp so tight that he could have cut off his head.

"Oh god," Brendan muffled through Erik's skin, as he stood there on his knees, clasping Erik like he was the gift of life itself. "Erik you're okay! You're...you're...."

What did the cameras matter to him now? Everyone in the world, all his old friends, his family, the people he left behind would have been shocked, but nothing mattered anymore except the fact that the one person he loved the most in the world at the moment was there, right there in his arms.

Everything could only get better from there.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
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personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Keep it together Brendan...Keep it together...screw it, I'm not doing that.

There was no point in trying to deny how he was really feeling at that moment. Relief, mixed with terror, mixed in with some pure sadness. Erik was here, he'd be here with him, it'd be okay. He was okay, Brendan was okay (well, slightly less so than Erik was), and they would all be okay together.

He'd always had the best way with words, and now, as he sat in Erik's arms, it was like the entire world was simply a dream that surrounded them, colours and blurs....colours and really angry blurs, come to think of it...

....crap.

Why did he have to just act like that? Erik woud have been just as happy had he waited until he was bandaged up. He was letting his emotions grab ahold of himself. It was a little glimpse into his psyche and a reminder that he was still human, but if he did that again, in a more fleetingly dangerous situation.

When the time came, he'd know.

But now he had to deal with Sarah and Stacy.

Letting go of Erik and rotating himself around in his lap, he faced the goth wrestler and nervously chuckled. Yeah, she could probably beat them both up, by the looks of her.

Sarah's reaction, however, wasn't so calm. Biting the bottom of his lip nervously, he realised he deserved nearly every word of what he said. He had wasted her water, he had wasted her medical supplies. And he was being a bit inconsiderate, given the circumstances. Sure, he'd reunited, but...damn, he needed a bit of time to sort out his priorities.

Sliding off Erik's lap, his hand momentarily grasping his, he shuffled over to Sarah and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Sarah, Sarah, I'm sorry, really sorry. Look, I'll stay still, I've," Brendan reached into his nearby bag and, ruffling around on the inside, found Chris Davidson's first aid kit "Got two of these, you don't need to worry about wasting this stuff. I've got more water as well, we don't need to worry about that. Just...just calm down, okay? I'll, um, I'll get back into position, okay?"

Sliding his backside across the ground, he shuffled back into position on the dirt before, and kept his throbbing, bandaged leg off the ground.

Stacy has the right idea. Keep the tension low, it'll be okay. At least try a joke or two.

Yes, he still had tears in his eyes, but at least his throat was okay now, he wasn't babbling like a freaking madman.

Glancing back at his boyfriend through the upsidedown view that was provided, he smiled widely.

"So - how've you been Erik? Okay?" Brendan smiled. This wasn't a time to be sombre. Slightly happier times were a go.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
It had to be funny by any count that the time he was spending with Erik now was almost 10 times more romantic than almost anything they'd gotten up to at Bayview. Who needed a trip to the theatres when you could just sit there by a crackling fire (granted, in the middle of nowhere, but it was still a crackling fire) with the person who made everything better just by being there?

Well, the romance kind of slipped down a few notches after everyone started to discuss penises. And a few more once Stacy started to discuss killing someone with one.

Brendan joined in the little discussion by rummaging around in his assigned bag. The gun was kept at the bottom, since he would only be sure he could use it when the situation got dire, and there was no need to scare Sarah. Instead, he found the box he was still carrying around as a reminder of how lucky he was that he found something better.

"Oh, while we're on that subject," Brendan commented with an air of sarcasm about him, and with that he pulled out the assigned blow-up doll he was given "Try imagine killing someone with this."

Bam, he dropped it above his head, right in Erik's lap, still smiling up at the tall track runner.

"According to the little bit of paper that came with it, it's a blow-up doll. I dunno what they expect me to do with it, really. Dustin Royal could probably use it, if I ran into him," Brendan said, before starting to let loose a laugh. It was making him feel that little bit better, being able to joke about stuff that was so grim, so dark in subject.

Of course, the little scene seemed to take a turn for the worse when Sarah mumbled something, then passed out on the grass beneath them.

There was a deafening silence, as they all sat there, watching the small girl stop moving. And then....Brendan of all people broke the silence.

"Umm...okay, I..uh...Stacy, could you, uh....could you check if she's...okay, or asleep and not dead or anything? I...uh...I'll just bandage up my leg, and..." Brendan stammered, really not sure how to properly react to the situation. Fumbling through his bag, he found his assigned first aid kit and took out the large bandage and the pair of small medical scissors. Not wasting any time, he scooted himself and his half-bandaged leg closer to Erik, and trailed his hands along the dirt covering the white medical material until he found where it stopped. There wasn't much non-contaminated bandage, so he'd have to waste a lot of it. He snipped it off quickly, stuffed the unusable stuff in his abnormally large pockets, and started to tightly wrap up the rest of his leg which hadn't been touched.

After a bit, he started to think about some things, all the while winding up his bandage around his leg.

Over.

Under.

Over two days ago, he was simply a follower of the people he'd spent all his time at Bayview with. When the girl on the beach was shot, he didn't know what to do. Fight and flight reflexively chose to fly, and...now, it was almost an exact mirror of the situation, only someone as heroic and as good of a leader as Xu wasn't there. He was the person who'd led these girls throughout the island for almost a day now, and all he'd done was scrounge a bit of clothing and start a fire. What then? He knew that even with Erik showing up, he'd never be the person with all the answers.

Under.

Over.

He'd just be another poor soul, wandering around the island until someone with an itchy finger and a hankering to see their parents again wanted to end his life.

Over.

Under.

He'd never be free.

Under.

Over.

He'd never see his friends on the right terms again.

Over.

Under.

And worst of all...What would happen to Chase?...

Okay, seriously, what the FUCK is wrong with me? WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING ON ABOUT? JESUS CHRIST, DO I NEED TO THINK THIS MUCH? I'M NOT GOING TO DIE LIKE THAT! I'LL FIND MY FRIENDS AGAIN, I'LL FIND SOMEONE SMART WHO KNOWS WHAT TO DO, AND I'LL...I just need to sleep, that's all I need to do. This isn't helping me one bit. I...I'll get Stacy to take watch, and I'll...need to stop thinking so much, the blood loss isn't helping my head one bit.

Under.

The bandage was at it's end, and his leg was now gripped tightly by the white fabric, like a snake about to eat its meal. He slivered the end of the bandage into the rolls behind it, and smiled briefly at his work.

Resting his head on his knee, brought into his chest like he was hiding in a box like an amputee, Brendan reached his right hand around, still tattered with a smear of blood from either Day 1 or only yesterday, and clasped the giant track runner's own hand tightly.

No matter what happened so far, he knew he would always have Erik.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
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I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The power of a voice was substantial, really. With a single breath someone could change the entirity and going-ons of a scene forever. Whether it be with words or with the actions that came of those words, it's impossible to deny how powerful the human voice is, both on the mind and on any situation.

Really, Brendan Wallace could not have welcomed the changes that occured just then even more than he did now.

As he sat there, squeezing Erik's hand as he made sure that his bandage was on right and tight, he heard that voice echo through his ears and it was like he'd been taken back to Bayview once again.

"So...who'd you guys take to the prom?"

"Uh...you wanna go first?"

"Uhh, well...I went with Reiko.

"*smirk* Was it fun?"

"*blush* Uhh, yeah? I guess? Well, i mean, yes. Well, the prom not so much.. but anyway! Brendan?"

"Uh...yeah, I...went with...Erik Laurin."

...*blush*


"Good times?"

"Uh...yeah, good times, yeah."

*bzz bzz*

"I suspect if you keep checking that, you'll be selling us out to the government."

"Huh? Oh, hehe, yeah.

Umm, okay, so is everything sorted? I umm, I, I should probably get going."


"*GLAAAARE* Yes, you should get going, SHOULDN'T YOU."

"Bye!"

"Bye!

...so."


"Uh...my class is about to start so...uh...I'd better get going."

"Oh...but lunch started about 10 minutes ago..."

"Yeah! Uh...lunch. Bye..."

"... :-/ "


The same voice. That voice, the one he'd barely gotten to know over the past year that he'd known the guy, and it was the voice that couldn't have been a more blessed, more welcome voice to him right there.

Rashid.

Sarah ???
Roland ???
Dutchy ???
Madelyn.
Harun.
Rasshid. <------ FUCKING A!
Vera.
Erik.
Chase.
Dawne.
Nik.
Jamie.


It was like he was back at the beach all over again, a reunion. He didn't know this guy as well as he should have, hell, everyone on his little mental (soon to become real) list were people he never would know. That still didn't change the fact that these were the people who were his rocks, his little weights that kept him pinned down to the here and now, and even if it was finding a foreign, hockey-playing guitarist who only gave him a thanks after adjusting his sound properly compared to his best friend in the whole wide world, then they all lay on the same plane there.

People he loved.

"Holy...holy crap Rash?" Brendan yelled out from behind the two people blocking him off, Erik and Stacy. Momentarily slipping his fingertips away from Erik's he used his non-harmed foot to get up off the ground, and grabbed his impromptu walking-stick. Making his way as fast as he could to the two people, he smiled widely.

"Stacy, don't worry, he's cool, he's so fucking cool right now! Rash!" Brendan started, before throwing any sense of personal space in his own moment of relief spun together in a mixer with euphoria and giving him a hug. He almost had to stop him from accidentally whacking Rash out with his walking stick when he forgot to put it down. Still half-laughing, half sighing, he let go, and was still putting on the biggest grin as he stood there, still trying to make out words to the now probably very violated Muslim friend of his.

"H-hey! I...I'm so glad to see you Rash, I...look, we're all okay, everyone in the Commie club is okay! I was with Sarah Dutchy and Roland a few days ago, and no one's been on the announcements or anything! I..." Brendan started, before hearing some noise behind Rash. A noise that was cut off, but still a very VERY recognisable voice and noise.

Whatever prayer Rash made to Allah, he needed to make it extra strong, cause frankly he seemed to be the bearer of some extra good news at this flashing moment in time.

"Harun? Is that Harun Rash?" Brendan asked, before yelling fowards into the night again "Hey! Harun, yeah, it's me Brendan! We're okay, no one here's playing or anything!"

Still trying to keep an optimistic look on his face, despite the fact that he realized the sun was rising in the sky to his...whichever, and that Danya was about to speak again. No, happy moments needed to stay for good, at least until he got to confirm that these two people were okay.

"You don't have anyone else back there do you? Not Maddy or Vera or someon-"

Of course, this facade, even though it was only a momentary facade but a facade nonetheless, was shattered the very moment the speakers schreeched to life.

The voice, that sickening voice penetrated the momentary break in the war amongst themselves to deliver the reaper's news again.

Again.

For the 3rd fucking time, he had to listen to everyone he knew or didn't know be listed off like a grocery list. Every name stuck to his brain like pollen to a sticky web, but...but out of every single one, two of them stood out for very different reasons.

Vera.

Nik.

Dead. Gone.

Killer. Gone...gone?

As the announcements came to their close, and their current location was spared the indignity of having to run away like circus mice, Brendan stood there.

He....

......
......

........
........
.........
.........
..........
..........
...........
................................................................................................................................................................
Edited by Brackie, Dec 7 2010, 07:46 AM.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
No............................................................................................................I................................................................................
.............................................................................................................................................................................Goodbye.......
.................................................................................................................................................................................................
.................................................You..........................................................................................................................................
..................................................................................................Be...........................................................................................
.......................................................................................................................................................Even...................................
.................................................................................................................................................................................................
....Vera......................................................................................................................................................................................
..............................................................Can't............................................................................................................................
.......................................................................................................................Never..................................................................
..............................................................................................................................................................................Said.............
.............................................................................................Dead.............................................................................................
........................................................................................................................................................................................VERA.


It was....no, it was worse than that, way worse. To compare it to a day before, when he found out a sole person, he knew had died, just a person he happened to know and nothing more would be an insult, a fucking insult. As Vera's name echoed throughout his mind once more, Brendan Wallace was still standing there, looking like someone who didn't know whether or not he had the ability to move. It was...Vera was gone?

He felt like a hole had been ripped in his stomach. From what he'd heard at school, Vera had really been the most distant member of the Activist Club, someone he never even really got to bother with in the first place because she seemed so up herself in her artistic lifestyle that someone like him, a loser who only hung around because he wanted to believe that America was not a land of idiots and doormats, would be inconsequential, useless. She came late to the meetings, she appeared at inopportune times, and...the most harrowing thing of all was that those few times she appeared, those opportunities, were all that he really knew of her. And that was the worst of it, he would never know her.

She was one of the first people who spoke to him after prom when he'd well and truly come out. He remembered chatting to her on the dance floor, as he momentarily broke away with Erik. She...was okay with him, with Brendan being the way he was, even though her creep of a date seemed to give him the ugliest looks.

And...now she was gone.

The mental list inside his head was now short three souls.

Three people that he would never speak to again. He would never get to relive that trip to the Anime festival with Dawne and Chase, he would never shake hands with Jonathan again as he introduced himself proper to Brendan, and he would never have a small discussion, even a fleeting and useless one, with Vera ever again.

...there wasn't really much else to say really.

His stomach felt tight, and it took the only sane voice, the one he'd grown to accept over the past 26 or so hours, to snap him back to reality.

Brendan turned around on the spot to face the girl, still concerned about Sarah and her sleeping figure. For a brief second there, Brendan wanted to kill her, just rip her throat out so she could stop with the fucking pointless snippets of dialogue that spewed forth from her lips...he didn't even realize that impulse was there, and then it disappeared.

Stacy did have a point though. Even though it was morning, he Sarah and Stacy had only gotten a few hours of sleep between them, and Brendan did have a habit of being less than himself if he was tired. He didn't know how long Erik had been asleep before finding them, and he wasn't sure if Rashid and Harun had gotten any sleep at all.

So...yes, Stacy was right.

"Uh....um, sure, I...I...I guess," Brendan stuttered weakly, before wetting his lips and trying again to speak "I...I suppose th-that we should, uh....um get some rest, it-it's morning though, but...but I don-don't know if we'll be safe, I..I think we might if-if..."

Brendan's voice extruded so much inner pain. The shock of hearing one of his friends, his somewhat-close friends that he'd known for a while, even though it hadn't been to the same degree as any of his other friends, was now never going to be able to meet them again was something that hurt him way too much to understand.

"Uh, Stacy, I...I-how about, um, you? I could...could I just speak to you for a second?" Brendan managed to make out before his throat started to hurt again. Grabbing his bag, he walked a little bit away from the campsite they had set up, just enough so that the 3 guys couldn't hear him.

The other thing that was brooding on Brendan's conscience was the fact that he still carried a gun around.

He'd been given so much time to think over the last few days that he'd finally decided, as the gun gradually started to weigh him down more and more, that having a gun was something that he could do without. He wasn't a violent person, and he'd shown himself and the world (and more importantly, that purple-haired murderer) that he could do something even though he didn't have a gun or a weapon. He'd saved a life, he'd saved 2 lives come to think of it, and did any of that require a weapon? The only thing that a weapon like his was good for was killing. And no matter how far along the line they got, he would never succumb to the game. Ever. So why did he need a weapon?

He didn't.

But someone who was less against using it could.

He had never gotten to know Stacy over the last year, he'd never even had a conversation with her. She was a wrestler, part of the same crowd that Raymond guy was. That meant she had the ability to commit violence, which was something Brendan, Erik, Harun, and Rashid, even Rashid, lacked. They wouldn't be able to wield that gun effectively. This was why it all came down to her.

"Stacy, I...I don't really know you that well, and...and that's the point of what I'm gonna say next. I...Harun and Rashid over there, they...they aren't violent people. Sarah, she doesn't look violent, Erik isn't violent, and I...I'm not violent either. But...I-I dunno if I'm right or not here, but...but you're on the wrestling team, which means...well, I-I think it means that-I'm just gonna skip to the chase here, Stacy; take this."

Brendan reached into his bag, and, making sure that even in the dawns light, no one could see what he was holding except the eclectic girl in front of him, he pulled it out. Holding it to his chest, he showed Stacy his biggest secret, the one he'd been keeping for the last few days from everyone he knew so far. His gun.

"Tha-That table leg I got you won't help if we're attacked, and...And I dunno if we'll be attacked or not, but I don't wanna risk these guy's lives. I'm...I'm trusting you to stay up and make sure that we're safe. If-If we're lucky, you won't have to use it, and we'll-we'll be safe. If you do...just don't hit them, even if they're that Maxwell Lombardi guy, or a killer or anything. Just...I don't wanna traumatize my friends, and I'm sure you don't wanna traumatize Sarah, they don't need that."

Holding it out in front of him, cylinder extended out so that she couldn't shoot him, not that she would anyway, and he tried a smile. Worthless, so he stopped, giving off a focused and threatening look.

"Stacy...can I trust you?"

Please say yes.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
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I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Trust in me. We're not going to get out of this unscarred, and in all likelihood, some of us are going to die here. Possibly all of us. Before this is all done, you're going to see somebody die. I don't like it. I'll avoid killing if I possibly can, but I'll do it if I have to. If it comes down to being one of us or one of our other classmates, I will shoot to kill. So don't be surprised when I do."

That's a yes, I take it then?

A brief attempt at a smile graced Brendan's face, his nervous and on-the-brink face, when she took the gun. Yes, it was going to be put to some use now. The only problem with the predicament was that Stacy seemed too inclined too use it. Perhaps he was right in all his blind assumptions, about how she was a wrestler and therefore violent. If so, that would probably explain a lot.

But while his assumptions may have been on the dot, her own assumptions were a wild hit. She didn't need to worry about him seeing someone die, he'd already faced that faucet of reality a long time ago.

He could register as these thought went through his mind that Stacy was touching his face.

O_O

No, he didn't do that.

T_T

No, not that either.

$_$

Nope.

V_V

That was something like it. He couldn't really contain his eye contact with her, because as good of a person as he was, he was still against touching people he didn't know. Especially a touch this...intimate.

Goth chicks, my one weakness...

Her voice sprung up again, asking about the ammo for the gun. Brendan reached into his bag quickly, felt around for a box he hadn't touched in days, and pulled it out, all the while keeping it out of view from everyone else except the girl in front of him.

"This is it. Including the 6 already in there, there's 6 more slugs or whatever in here. I...I'd just keep this stuff out of sight until...until you need to use it, right," Brendan muttered.

He turned around and spoke to the group of people they had amassed.

"Okay, uh, I...I think we should probably try and get some rest, I don't know about most of you but...but I've only had about 6 hours of sleep in the last few days, and I-I'd really like to not blow up any time soon, so-so yeah," Brendan muttered. Part of him wasn't really sure whether or not they heard him at his current volume.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
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I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Was...Stacy flirting with him?

...huh.

It's like the big guy in the sky was saying "Hey, you're gonna die, so now you can have all the hot goth chicks you want". Seriously, it was weird. Maybe everyone really did need some sleep, if people were actually getting so tired that they were mistaking him for cute.

Well, Erik excluded at least.

Speaking of, as he watched Harun drop like a fly, Erik volunteered to keep watch. As much as Brendan wanted to say that Stacy already had that under control, well...

...

...What, he was supposed to justify that? He was supposed to say that, but he didn't. He was really tired, and in no mood to tell people what to do. He'd lead Stacy and Sarah across the island in safety, so he was sure that even if he stopped for a moment, everything would be okay as long as they kept their head up.

At least that was how Brendan justified his cowardice in his mind, anyway.

"Uh, sure! Stacy's, uh, actually staying up as well, so, uh, I, uh, suppose, uh, that can, uh, work, uh, yeah." Brendan stammered, before shaking his head quickly. Dammit, he was stuttering again, that was no good. He couldn't put himself up as a convincing leader if he couldn't even make out a sentence properly.

And yes, shaking one's head randomly immediately cures stuttering, Brendan would be fairly surprised if that was true.

He didn't dwell on his mind-blanks that much, but instead stepped forward and brought Erik into a hug. Granted, he had to reach up a lot to do it, but that didn't make the hug any less meaningful in his eyes.

"Thanks anyway," Brendan said quietly. He released from the hug slowly, and smiled "Wake me up at about midday, and I'll take over, you two can get some sleep as well."

Well, at least he wasn't stuttering anymore.

Part of him just wanted to kiss Erik, right there. The part that loved Erik a lot, the part that never got a chance to speak. It had to contend with the parts of him that hated being around large groups of people, the parts that didn't like showing intimacy in public, the part that was just plain petrified at the situation he was dealing with in general.

It could wait, right?

He turned back around and put his bag in the centre of the two people already fast asleep. After a few seconds of adjusting, Brendan got into something comfortable, and his bag was a pillow.

Within a minute, he was asleep.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
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I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
What are you doing, Brendan?

I'm going to help these guys. I can't shoot people, I'm not able to shoot people, but I can still help them if I just go and find something they can use.

Use for what? You know what you've seen, two of these guys look close to snapping, they've taken aboard the reality of the situation.

That doesn't change a thing. They're my friends, even Stacy. If I give them something, just any something, that means they have a chance. A fighting chance. I mean, look at me, Danya obviously doesn't want me to survive if he gave me a sex doll. But if I can just find everyone I know, get us all together, and somehow just work it out...

You keep saying that Brendan, but what does "work it out" mean? Work what out?

Work out what we're going to do.

Yeah, but you see, what you're going to do is get everyone together, everyone with weapons, and sooner or later someone's going to snap. Just like that. Look at Charlotte. Clio. Nik. Kris. Maxwell. Everyone who's killed so far. They all snapped.

My friends aren't like tha-no, I know what you're gonna say next. I don't care. We're all still classmates, friends, people. It doesn't matter. If I know them, I know that I never helped out, studied, shared classes with, or did anything with anyone I knew would snap and kill people. There had to have been a reason for what happened with the one or two I know who have started killing...but that's not what I'm going to do. I'm not finding people. People can find us.

All I'm doing is finding a way to really fight, really protect everyone here.


You keep telling yourself that Brendan.

I'm pretty sure you can keep telling yourself you're helping people when the fact is you just want to run away and hide, fuck 'em all. Even I can tell that.

I'm not even sure why I'm talking to you. I realised this was a dream about 10 seconds ago, which makes this lucid. Now, you're not me, you're now Lexie Logan-Price, and you're in your pink laced underwear, and you're coming onto me because hot damn you were one of the best looking girls at Bayvie-


"You're back! I tried to find you! You're okay! yay! Sapphire!"

If that wouldn't have worked, then the next annoucements coming in and ruining the scene would have.

...he clenched his eyes shut. It was probably too much too hope for, just wishing that the whole thing was a dream. Twenty-five people he knew, twenty-five people he recognised, twenty-five people he'd never speak to again...

...at least Chase wasn't on there. If she'd been mentioned there in any way, then he wouldn't really know what to think.

He hadn't shown that he'd woken up yet. He still had his eyes clenched shut, trying to not think about all the stuff he'd missed over the last day. People were dead and dying all around the island, all the while he slept comfortably with people around to protect him.

Well...he'd already written up his dayplan while he slept.

It wasn't like he'd be leaving these people behind, Stacy would protect them. She had one of the most powerful handheld guns on the island as far as he knew, and that had to count for something in the long run, right?

All his things were together already, so he didn't need to make a big fuss. Brendan picked up his bag, and sat himself on the stump, only realising that there was someone else here, someone else that Sarah and Stacy seemed to recognise.

There really wasn't any point in acquainting himself with someone he'd just be abandoning, again.

Brendan stood up, and nervously fidgeted with the strap on his shoulder.

"Guys? I...I know we've all just got together and all, but, but, but, there's just some things I need to do, and people I need to, uh, find, uh, yeah. I've...you'll..you'll be safe and stuff, yeah, Stacy could probably tell you why, but...I'm gonna go look around the island and see if there's anything else I can find to keep us safe, like weapons and stuff. I...I'll be really really safe, I know how to hide and keep quiet and stuff, so...if I'm not back here by tomorrow's announcements, I'll meet you all back at the town, look for a house with anyone friendly in it and stay there, I'll find you eventually. I'm...I'll keep safe, okay? I...you won't hear me on the announcements, I promise, I...I...I'll...I'll miss you all, and...Erik, Stacy, just keep everyone safe."

Brendan scratched the back of his head nervously, avoiding their gaze, and turned around.

For a brief moment, he considered taking back his word, and staying here regardless.

Instead he just turned back around, ran to Erik, and finally kissed him.

Few moments later, he broke the kiss, and tried to keep himself smiling.

"Don't worry, I can take care of myself. Just...keep my friends safe, and I promise I'll come back to you...you guys. I promise."

Brendan kissed Erik once more, and instead of possibly doing the same to everyone there like he did to Erik, he instead headed off. He couldn't run, since he still had a bung leg with stitches. Death by torn stitches would be an embarrassing way to end up noticed by Danya.

Once he was a fair distance away from his most recently abandoned group, he stopped. Brendan slumped himself on the nearest stump, and pulled out all of his survival tools.

...hmm, if I go there, there might not be people. People could be keeping stuff there or something, but I could just try it. It's always worth the shot, and I have a day to find everything I can. There's so much to search here, and if I can just find Chase, then my reason for keeping up hope is still alive.

((Brendan Wallace continues in That's a bout. Salute. Shake hands.))

I still think this is a lost cause.

Well, I've never been one to pay attention to the voices inside my head, now am I? I expect that's how everyone else snapped.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
Member Avatar
personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Sorry for the wait, I have no excuse. Oh, also, I'm Sarah's new handler, nice to be back again))

Sapphire's back! We're all back together again! And...who are they? What are they doing here?

Sarah glanced over Sapphire's shoulder as she squeezed the life out of the fellow Christian girl and saw...they were boys! Boys she didn't recognise! What were they doing here? Did Brendan know them?

...Brendan?

"Stacy, where's...BRENDAN!" Sarah yelled out. She let go of Sapphire like she was on fire and whipped her head around. There was the new boy, the one who Brendan hugged, there was the other two boys, one of which she recognized as that Muslim boy, and there was Stacy, and Sapphire, but...where was Brendan?

Sarah ran to the edge of their campsite, trying to look among the scattered logs for the boy she'd only just stitched up, or so it seemed like it. He couldn't run off like that! He couldn't have done that! He was wounded, he needed to rest! If his stitches came undone then he could start bleeding again!

"Brendan! Brendan come back! Please! Your...leg..." The petite girl tried calling out again, but she was still tired. She'd only just woken up, and now she had to find Brendan, make sure he was okay. If his stitches split she would never forgive him.

But...she couldn't do that right now. Every little bit wanted to go out and find him, but Stacy and Sapphire still needed her. She still needed Stacy and Sapphire, and try as she might, she wouldn't be able to convince them to go search for a boy they barely even knew.

Sarah held her hands to her chest, clenching each other in a tight vice. He needed to be okay.

She turned around once more and faced her companions. If she was any other girl, she would have started to cry. But no, this wasn't the time for that. No crying. None at all. Be a nice girl, tough girl.

After all this time, she was still tired. Sleeping sounded like a good idea.

"Guys, let's get some sleep. We...we can find Brendan later, and we can find a place to stay and help people!" Sarah blurted out, filled to the brim with her usual brand of optimism.

*

Several minutes later, the three girls were all set, cuddled up together just like before with Stacy. Sarah was roused back into the land of nod quite easily.

((So might as well get everyone asleep and transition to Day 6, no?))
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I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
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personification of adhd
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((*puts on his Rosie-Mask*))

While everyone slept, Erik thought.

Why did he do it? Why did he let Brendan go?

It seemed so long ago now. He mumbled. Erik sat there. They kissed, and he left. Limping. Hurt. He couldn't hide it that well, Erik knew fully well how much pain he was in. But...why didn't he go after him?

When your boyfriend is trapped on a deserted island with you and...Erik shook his head and tried not to think up that ridiculous number. However many classmates it was, you need to have some sort of last thoughts, some last little bits of information, just something you need to get off your chest. There was so much stuff he had to say, yet he couldn't say it cause no one to say it to was here.

Chloe, Brendan...Robert...

These feelings surrounding him just sort of teetered out. Chloe...where was she? He never saw her at the buses, did she miss out on the trip? Sick? She wasn't on the announcements at all, there was still a small group of people who he had no idea what had even happened to them. If it wasn't for finally running into Brendan, then that periphery would be even smaller.

But these people...they weren't the people he was looking for.

As he sat there, watching the diverse group of his classmates sleep throughout the night, Erik bit his lip. They weren't Brendan. They knew him, he knew them, but they weren't him.

He had to look for him. Even running into Robert now would be a much better alternative to doing nothing.

His long, awkwardly-shaped hands fumbled around, just wishing he knew what the right thing to do was.

This was answered for him quite quickly.

Their guard, whoever he was, got up and left. After a few minutes, when he didn't come back, Erik knew this was the least awkward chance he would get.

Pulling himself onto the nearest stump, he took his bag with him and slung it around his shoulder, dangling awkwardly in the night like a mysterious trap, goading some unlucky bug to death.

Find him. Find anyone.

Erik strode off quickly towards where he guessed Brendan was headed. No idea. But it was better than sitting around feeling absolutely worthless.

((Erik Laurin continued in The Lost Boys))

And all the while, Sarah Tan watched through foggy eyes, winced slightly, then closed them once more.

*

"Right, guys, I need to stretch my legs and there's no point in staying here. Let's get going, guys."

Daylight. They were all well awake by then, and Sarah was sorting through her bags. All the medical supplies she grabbed were accounted for, the few days they spent camped there were vicariously short of thieves or anyone desperate. Not that she'd turn away a desperate person, no, if they asked she could provide them with ample supplies.

Check, check, and check! Everything we need is in here! If Brendan comes back, we can get his leg fixed up again, the stitches probably haven't held...No! Don't think like that! He's smart, he'll know what to do, won't he?

"We've got everything we need here! Let's go! We can find a place to set up shop and maybe get a clinic together!" Sarah bubbled out, still pretty groggy from too much sleep and not enough energy intake. She'd taken and devoured a whole loaf of bread while she searched, blissfully ignoring the possible nutritional ramifications.

The petite girl slide her arm under the strap, and tugged the bag somewhat off the ground, balancing awkwardly in a somewhat comical position. This didn't last long, as she quickly started bounding off after the two boys who were now leading the group.

((Sarah Tan continued in Keep On Smiling))
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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