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Fabuleux; [[Reentry of B062- Early Day 4, Open]]
Topic Started: Nov 13 2010, 05:20 PM (4,030 Views)
Hollyquin
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
[[Vivien Morin adopted & continued from Wants and Needs~]]

Vivien pouted.



He'd been doing that a lot, lately.


Two full days. That's how long he'd been alone. Two full days, 48 hours- more than that, really. He'd been alone since he'd picked up that imbecile Jonathon Jarocki's gun and wandered off from the cute little town he'd woken up in. He had no idea what time it had been when he woke up originally, and had no way of knowing, but he figured it had been nearly three days now. Of course, he didn't need protection anymore- beautiful, charming and well-armed was a fantastic conversation, both in reality TV and in reality itself. But he'd had a plan...sort of. His plan was essentially- find his girls. And...well, that was it. He didn't particularly want to start another Poison Angels (he had watched Version 3, and he found himself admiring their feminine wiles)- as entertaining as they had been, he felt as though running around murdering boys was a bit...unbecoming.

Besides, what if there were cute boys? There were a few of those running around Bayview, there had to be a few running around the island...

So Vivien had wandered, and wandered, and wandered some more to absolutely no avail. It seemed inconceivable that he'd run into exactly no one when there had to be at least two-hundred-something kids here. But there was nothing, or at least not much. He'd seem some kids, but no one he recognized, or at least no one he trusted enough to reveal himself to. He was sure anyone who saw him would recognize him- he was the Queen of Bayview, after all- but whether they would welcome him was another story.

He'd been doing pretty well, as far as we was concerned. He slept every night- outdoors, admittedly, and Vivien hoped and hoped he'd locate a bed sometime soon- but that was certainly better than not sleeping at all. He hadn't gone through much of his rations, as he was used to not eating much- if nothing else I certainly won't be gaining any weight any time soon. He was maybe not happy, but he was certainly surviving. He hadn't gone far, though- his heavy pink duffel bag prevented him from going far. Of course, there was no way Vivien Morin would ever ditch a bag full of gorgeous clothes, unless his life depended on it. He changed clothes every morning, as Danya made his announcements- cameras be damned. There was way less shame in nudity than there was in repetition.

He did listen to every announcement, of course, and he took quick mental notice of the important ones. Maxwell Lombardi, the cute English boy from prom- he'd apparently killed a lot of people. Always the cute ones that snap, isn't it? Sad how it always works out that way... Reiko was a multi-murderer at this point as well. Aislyn and Felicia and Sammy were okay, at least, but...

But nothing. People were dead, yeah, but this was Survival of the Fittest. He wasn't dead, and that was the trick, no?

Vivien finished dressing, repacked his bag. The dress he'd discovered (and forgot he'd packed, apparently) was reminiscent of his prom dress, and the memories came pouring back...

No more reminiscing, Viv. Sadly it seems that you'll never get to be quite that gorgeous again...

He could try, though. He stopped dead, unpacking his compact, his mascara, his hairbrush, using the water from his rations to wash the scrappy remains of makeup from his face and expertly reapplying. He fixed his hair, brushing it perfectly into position. He looked in the mirror, critically.

...You're a heartbreaker, sweetheart, really, you are.

Now. Off to find some hearts...


Vivien began to move again, slowly-slowly- it wouldn't do for him to break the gorgeous red pumps he was wearing, after all. He was sidelined, though, by something blue. Not the sky this time, no- the sea. He'd wandered quite near the cliffs the night before, though he hadn't noticed in the dark. Now that the sun had risen, though, the pink light of sunrise played on the water, and he found himself drawn as though by a magnet to the cliff's edge.

Beautiful scenery and a beautiful me...this is perfection, really.

He sat, his feet dangling over the cliff's edge, his toes curled tight-

This was nice and everything, but he'd be mighty pissed if he lost these pumps to the ocean.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
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Hollyquin
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
[[OOC: Sorry for the wait! ><]]

And now, suddenly, people were coming out of the woodwork. Two days entirely on his own and here he sat down for five minutes to appreciate a gorgeous sunrise and people were suddenly showing up. Vivien wasn’t quite sure how he felt about this. On one hand, being alone was boring. On the other hand, not being alone was far more likely to result in his untimely and surely unattractive demise.

First, there was a girl. A girl who spontaneously announced herself when she was this close and very nearly made Vivien drop a shoe.

In fact, it did make him lose a shoe. His glorious red pump- the left one, the one that had a very specific nick in it from when he’d nearly fallen his first time walking in them- fell, as though in slow motion. It hit the water with a muted splash and Vivien immediately hated this girl, whoever he was. He kicked the other pump into the water, feeling rather silly sitting there with a single heel, and turned around, wanting nothing more to throw this infuriating person into the water. If nothing else, she’d be able to retrieve his shoes.

Sofia Martelli. He knew the name because he knew all the names, though he’d never paid much attention to her before. She was pretty in a sort of masculine way and she certainly could use some fashion advice, which in any other circumstance he’d be more than willing to give. She also seemed to know his name, not that that was surprising. Vivien Morin was unmistakable. Unmistakably gorgeous, that is.

Maybe I could make an ally out of her...? She seems like a tough little thing, with that...is that a lead pipe? Oh, did everyone get an actual weapon except me? Well, at any rate, she’d do as a sort of bodyguard. An odd sort, I suppose, but a bodyguard nonetheless.


She’d asked questions. Several questions. Why he was alone, if he’d seen Colin (Colin...that musician boy? Didn’t he kill someone...?), what he’d got...what he’d got. Vivien silently thanked whatever beautiful deity had led him to leave his newly-found gun in his bag, and led him to keep that Venus de Milo statuette.

“I’m alone because I haven’t run into anyone I trust farther than I could throw them. Which isn’t very far, I suspect,” he said with a charming smile. “And no, I’m afraid I haven’t seen Colin. You’re the first person I’ve seen in days, in fact.”

“And as for a weapon...”

He pulled the statuette from his bag. No need for anyone to know he was well-armed. Far better to being a damsel in distress than a hero. After all, no one expects a damsel in distress to shoot you in the back of the head when you’re not looking.

“Danya apparently decided that this qualifies as a weapon,” Vivien whined, mentally congratulating himself on a fabulous performance. “He probably picked it out specifically to mock me. Poor Viv, all alone with his Venus de Milo, indeed...”

...And then his performance was interrupted by a voice. Another female voice. Not one he recognized, to his dismay- where were his friends when he needed them? -but still, a girl would be slightly less likely to shoot him on sight. He hoped, at least. Besides, the fact that she was calling out was encouraging. Either she was trusting, or she was stupid.

Essentially the same thing.

Saying "hey" back would be undignified. He settled for a lingering "Hello?" which would hopefully be enough to draw this girl out of the woods where she'd undoubtedly been hiding.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
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Hollyquin
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Well. Things seemed to be going well. Relatively, at least, given that on Survival of the Fittest going well generally meant not a shriveled corpse bleeding out on a cliff somewhere. No, Vivien Morin was whole and beautiful as he ever was, and now he had quite a bit of company to keep.

This other girl, Janet Claymont. He frowned. Hadn't she killed someone? Hadn't he heard something about that on the announcements? He tried to think back- no no no, he'd been thinking of Janet Binachi, she had killed someone, and Janet Victoriee-Ser was dead. Not a good time to be named Janet, hm? He hadn't, didn't, know any of them well.

This Janet was a cheerleader, he knew that much. She didn't have a reputation for being particularly...nice, and she clearly had no sense in clothing (and was in desperate need of some hair dye). But clearly this girl trusted them enough to call out to them. At the very least she would make a good patsy, if she stuck around. Obviously anyone idiotic enough to yell to a couple of strangers on Survival of the Fittest isn't intelligent enough to lead...or to be alone. Or maybe her and Sonia know each other...?

"Oh, it's you. Sorry, I was expecting someone else."

Well, that didn't sound like the words of a girl reunited with a friend. Who on earth was Sonia expecting at a time like this? This was Survival of the Fittest, not a Starbucks. You don't invite your friends somewhere, meet up, have a coffee (Vivien could go for a latte macchiato right about now, actually). Unless maybe Sonia had split up with some friends earlier, made plans to meet them? But no, Sonia had been looking for someone, so that seemed unlikely.

Curiouser and curiouser.

"Do either of you have any plans from here on, by any chan--"

Vivien had a few answers ready- find his girls, find someplace relatively comfortable to stay for a while, change into an outfit that didn't look ridiculous sans his gorgeous red pumps which he just now was remembering to be angry at Sonia over the loss of- when Sonia stopped dead and so did he.

There was someone there. Someone with a shotgun.

A whimper escaped Vivien's throat involuntarily. It wasn't even a cute boy, he would have a bit to be happy for with that, at least. But alas, no, it was John Smith. Fatty John, Vivien thought with an internal chuckle, remembering the name he'd heard around school. The boy wasn't even that big. But he was holding a shotgun, and he was definitely looking at them. And he could definitely kill them all right now, if he was the kind of boy who'd do that kind of thing.

Vivien really wasn't sure.

But he hadn't shot them yet. That was encouraging. Vivien recovered his composure, and his manners, and gave the other boy a formal, pageantry sort of wave. He didn't particularly want this boy to join them, but he'd rather that than becoming a fresh bloodstain on the cliff.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Hollyquin
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Drop that fucking gun or find out what lead tastes like. Your choice."

Oh...dear. Perhaps she's just an idiot after all. At least there's a warm body between me and that gun...Good choice, Vi, wearing red. Blood won't show up on red.

Those thoughts ran through his head in a deceptive calm, disguising his more pressing and more appropriate feelings of panic. Not particularly becoming in a lady, perhaps, but when there's a madman waving a gun at you, what are you supposed to do? Give him the fashion advice he so desperately needs? No. And this was no time for strategy, either. No one was listening. Best Vivien could do was play the helpless girl card, be the damsel in distress. He was pretty good at that. Of course, if Fatty John knew him (and who didn't?), if Fatty John was a homophobe...well. Then dear Vivien might be in a bit of trouble.

He subtly maneuvered himself to put Sofia between himself and that shotgun. John was freaking out, Janet seemed overcome by panic, the way he would be if he were a lesser competitor. Whatever, he was panicking too, but at least he could think enough to take himself (relatively) out of harm's way. His hand slipped inside his bag- to Sofia it would presumably look like a desperate attempt to secure his pathetic excuse for a weapon, and he did wrap his hand around the Venus de Milo, but his fingers brushed his gun. If this boy took a shot, he wouldn't have long to live after. Sofia might get shot, but hey, that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

Shame about his dress, though.

And- what was he doing now? Was he...was he holding the shotgun like a club? And Vivien had thought Sofia was an idiot. The only decent reason he could think of for a boy with a gun to hold it by the barrel was if said gun wasn't loaded, and if that was the case he had nothing to fear anyway. And if it was loaded, well, hopefully this boy would blow himself up by mistake.

I really did underestimate the stupidity of my classmates. Sigh. This is oh-so-pathetic. I really do need better allies.

He was about to say something- probably something understated yet pithy- when the loudspeaker crackled to life.

The voice wasn't Danya's. It was Mr. Kwong.

Vivien's wide eyes found the nearest speaker and he stared at it as the voice of his old math teacher came out. He was searching for answers, and he found them- some girl, Liz Polanski (who?) had messed with her collar. They were being offered a reward in return for killing her. And if other people tried to interfere with their collar, others would be killed. Including, possibly, Mr. Kwong.

Vivien didn't even recognize the name. Clearly this girl was outside of his social circle...outside of any social circle, really. Clearly she wasn't anyone he cared about.

Or anyone he minded killing. Getting a weapon, a real, powerful weapon...that sounded nice. Vivien would be happy with that.

But back to matters at hand. The boy swinging his shotgun around like a lunatic, the girl screaming at him to drop his gun, the other girl shocked into silence- Vivien realized that there was really nothing to say. If anyone got hurt here, it wasn't going to be him.

He'd mind his own business. Make a move when the time was right.

And if one of these two took out the other, well...

One down.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
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Hollyquin
Member Avatar
A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Ooh, well, this isn't pretty at all, is it?

Vivien couldn't even think in good conscious that things had 'gone to hell'. Things had 'gone to hell' the moment Fatty John had arrived on the scene. But now the boy had taken a lead pipe to the arm- not a confrontation his arm had won, judging by the sound- and now Miss Claymont had apparently taken it upon herself to go screaming and clawing like a banshee at the boy.

He'd dropped his gun. That was good, at least.

Vivien considered that a moment. His gun was on the ground. The boy was incapacitated and the two girls were half-crazed in their inexplicable rage states. That gun was being ignored. Oh so deliciously ignored...

But that lasted only a moment. Vivien shook his pretty little head, only to himself- No, no, no, that is all kinds of idiotic. The thing's huge, first of all...it's most likely not loaded. And I'd have to step a tad closer to this little brawl than I'd like to get my hands on it...sigh. It's a pretty thing, too. Oh well. Hopefully one of them breaks it by mistake.

Besides, I'm armed already.


His hand momentarily found his own gun, so much smaller than the other boy's and yet full of so much more potential. He wrapped his hand around the grip for a moment. Then let it go.

Then again.

No. Pointless. Stupid. Let the children fight it out and find out who's left alive in the morning. Kill one of them right now and whoever's not dead will be after me in a heartbeat...

I could probably take them all, but why bother? I'd rather not get this dress dirty. Even if the bloodstains wouldn't show.


Vivien released the grip on the gun and, hardly sparing another look at the battling trio, scampered away, cursing his lack of shoes.

The terrain was unforgiving on dainty feet.

[[Vivien Morin continued in Pretty Handsome Awkward]]
Edited by Hollyquin, Jan 10 2011, 11:50 AM.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
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