|Welcome to Survival of the Fittest, a RPing board 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 ninth 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!
|House of the Rising Sun; Day 4: Private|
|Topic Started: Nov 14 2010, 06:23 AM (5,083 Views)|
|Ruggahissy||Nov 14 2010, 06:23 AM Post #1|
((Ethan Kent continued from What Are Little Girls Made Of? ))
Ethan hummed a tune as they carefully descended down the mountain. They had been woken up by the horrible screeching of the announcements. More people were dead, more people had killed, but Ethan wasn’t paying particular attention to what the voice had said. He was mostly still groggy from waking up.
Would it kill these guys to make the announcements a little later? Like maybe around noon so I would be cognizant enough to register what hell they’re saying?
Going down the mountain opposite way they had come up, Ethan and Feo had spotted a small looking house in the distance. The map revealed it to be a ranger station and figuring they had nothing better to do, they decided to go take a look. Once down the hill it was only a short walk to the little house.
Ethan pulled out his inhaler and pushed down on the plunger, breathing deeply. He readjusted their two bags on his shoulders and walked towards the lone house. A little ways off a rusted bicycle with a slashed tire lay forgotten in the dirt.
I’ll come back and get it once I put these bags down. It looks easy to break and if I dismantle it, then we’d have metal, rusty, pointy sticks instead of wooden, regular pointy sticks. Yeahhhh, upgrade.
“Let’s check it out?”
|Sunny Delighted||Nov 17 2010, 03:00 PM Post #2|
your mom has an incredible 2 seam fastball that compliments her outside curve & sinker down the middle. although many tried that night, she threw 7 scoreless innings and didn’t let a man get past first base.
((Feo Eleri Smith continued from What Are Little Girls Made Of?))
More walking, more announcements, more of the same. Feo was glad no one was out for their blood at the moment, but she was kind of bored.
Which was dumb, dumb, dumb.
They went to the ranger station. From here, it looked fairly empty, which was what you wanted here. And there was a rusty blcycle, which could be useful for something.
Oh yeah, a weapon. Wood's good, metal is better.
She glanced at Ethan while he used his inhaler. That could be a problem later, she wouldn't comment on it though.
"Yeah, it looks nice and cozy."
Edited by Sunny Delighted, Nov 17 2010, 03:02 PM.
|Ruggahissy||Nov 18 2010, 10:49 AM Post #3|
Underfoot the dirt crunched as he approached the shack. He looked down and saw blood staining the ground. His fingers constricted against his stick and he looked at Feo. He went first, opening the door quietly. Taking a few steps inside, he found himself to be in a lounge/kitchen area. The sofa looked like it had been moved around, sitting at an odd angle to the rest of the furniture. Past that, the carpet changed to tile. There was a an oven, a sink and a refrigerator. He walked heel to toe past the kitchen to a small hall with two doors on either side. Ethan first opened the door to the right, finding an empty room with a dirty bed. Instinctively, he reached to the light switch near the door and flicked it up. Nothing.
Of course. They cut the power.
A quick duck down revealed no one under the bed waiting to ambush them. All that was left was the room on the right. He turned the knob and pushed against the door with his left arm and shoulder. It was a little office and it too was empty, meaning the house was safe. His eyes scanned the room and he saw the computer, his old, dear friend. He’d been without computers for almost four whole days and a rush of happiness flooded him. It was an old PC but it made him warm inside. It made him think of his babies back home. He missed his lap tops and PC. He knelt down the computer and turned the unit. It looked fine. He pushed the start button, but the screen remained blank.
“Right. No electricity. Okaaaaaay. Whatever, not like this place has internet access anyway. What the fuck did I think I was gonna do? Play minesweeper the rest of the time?”
He stood up and noticed the filing cabinets. Ethan yanked them open and started sifting through the papers. Campsite rules and regulations, shopping lists. Boring. He moved to another drawer and pulled out a handful of papers. They were all records for a logging operation.
Oh yeah. I woke up in a saw mill. That makes sense.
Much to his annoyance, the records didn’t have any useful information. There was no hint as to their location or names that he could recognize. It was all just records of the amount spent and earned and the amount they were producing He slammed the filing cabinet shut and went to the desk. He pulled open a drawer and found extra paper. He threw it closed. Another drawer, this one was totally empty, but showed signs of being formerly used by scratches on the inside. He shoved it closed as hard as he could. The last drawer was full of office supplies. Pencils, pens, white out, post it notes and erasers. Angrily he started sifting around the supplies.
“What the fuck kind of ranger station is this? Did they take everything that possibly could have been useful? Multi tools, pocket knife, emergency rations, radio, maps? That is fuckin’ weak,” he grumbled.
For all his searching, the only thing close to a tool he found was a standard, slightly dull, pair of needle nose pliers. He sighed, stuck them in his pocket and walked back out to the front of the station and dragged the broken bicycle inside to the office where he left his bag. He threw it down and looked at it.
“It’s going to be a pain to dismantle with just a pair of pliers. This sucks. This whole thing sucks. Maybe it’s old enough it’ll break into sharp metal pieces. Breaking shit with my hands, it’s barbaric. It’d much rather b-“
And then there was the spark. His eyes temporarily widened before squeezing tight. He shook his head and looked around the room. Every fiber of his being had gone into hyper mode and he coughed, hoping it would help reduce his nervous excitement. He bit his lip and looked around. Slowly, trying very very slowly, he reached across to his bag and felt around till he pulled out his backpack. He drew back the zipper, hearing ever individual track the zipper ran over and when it was wide enough he pulled out a note book and a pencil.
Stay calm. Don’t let them see. My god, I’m a fucking genius. I’m a god damn fucking genius. Though I’m kind of an idiot for not having noticed earlier, but we’ll ignore that.
He opened to a blank page. Looking up there were two camera’s in the room, one in the corner near the door where he had come in and one in the corner diagonal. Ethan scooted so that his back was against the corner of the camera across from the door and bent low over his note book, keeping it close to him. He wrote furiously, scribbled, drew. Finally he smiled. It was a long shot, but it might work. However there was one problem…..
The cameras. They’d push the “EXPLODE” button as soon as they realized what he was doing.
Ethan doubted Danya didn’t have at least one tech person who wouldn’t figure it out. He chewed on the edge of his pencil and after much thought, he understood what it had to be.
It has to be me. There’s no other way. There’s just no other way. I would get a patsy to do it if I could, but they’d hear me. No. They have to think I’ve just completely lost it. I don’t have to do this though. We can leave this hut and pretend we never found it. And then what would I do? Hang out with Feo for a while more until we got our asses killed by some psycho school kid? Let’s think about this. Sure, I’m badass, but is that enough for me to win? Before I would have tried for it at least, but this is a third option. Fuck me, I could never walk away from this place knowing I could have done something really cool AND MAYBE fucked the hell out of Danya’s plan. I…..I have to. I have to show that piece of shit what happens when you try to fuck over someone as awesome as me. Oh, and the rest of my class too. I guess. It’s a long long shot, but if it works…..well, they better fucking…name something after me or something.
Ethan looked up at Feo. Despite himself, he smiled a bit. He sighed and started writing in the notebook.
I have to get her out of this house. I have to do it without raising suspicion.
He was done. That was it. He ripped three pages out of the note book, folded them in half together and set them aside. Ethan took a deep breath and wiped he eyes underneath his glasses.
“Find anything good?”
|Sunny Delighted||Nov 18 2010, 08:23 PM Post #4|
your mom has an incredible 2 seam fastball that compliments her outside curve & sinker down the middle. although many tried that night, she threw 7 scoreless innings and didn’t let a man get past first base.
While Ethan was plotting his magnificent death, his companion was lost in time. This place reminded her of her grandmother's place in Brazil. It was as small as this. Nothing really interesting. But it was by the beach, and near Carnaval, and it was the most wonderful . . .
“Find anything good?”
She gradually snapped back to the present, frowning. No, she hadn't found anything. They'd cleared this place out, she wasn't a damn miracle worker.
"No, nothing useful. It looks like a decent safehouse though."
Great, more nothing to do. Fuck me, but this is annoying. Hurry up and wait, all this damn game is.
|Ruggahissy||Nov 19 2010, 04:34 PM Post #5|
His insides were still buzzing, he tried to calm down before looking at her. “Yeah, me neither. They didn’t leave anything good. At least it’s empty. Would have sucked to walk into an ambush. Here, come on, I might be able to tear some stuff out of the kitchen we could use.”
Ethan dug inside his pack for the first aid kit. Inside was a small pair of scissors. Not big enough to really do damage to someone in a fight but still able to cut softer material. He took the scissors and walked to the kitchen, very aware of the girl behind him. He could see her in his peripheral vision; he didn’t let her out of his sight. It wasn’t that he thought she would do something, but that he was trying to think. He was trying to think about her.
I need her out of here. It’s just a game, it’s all just a game. How do you get a girl to walk away from you? This should be easy. I mean, I’ve done it a ton of times before without even trying.
He grabbed the refrigerator with both hands on either side and leaned back as hard as he could, shifting from side to side. Eventually he created a space behind the refrigerator big enough for him to slip into. It was a tight fit between the wall and the back of the refrigerator, but it was just what he needed. First was the condenser tube/grill. He dug his fingers in and started to pull. It gave a little; it seemed to be a pretty old fridge, but not enough. He backed himself against the wall as far as he could and started kicking furiously at the metal. Eventually he managed to wrench it off the back of the machine and throw it on the counter.
“We might be able to use this for something. I’ll figure it out. I always do..”
It was his game of cruelty.
Behind the condenser was the fridge compressor. He pulled the black, metallic piece towards him and took out the tiny scissors. He set the blades the distance of the inside of the screws holding the compressor together and turned. He would have preferred a screw driver, but this seemed to be working. Finally the last screw was out and he was able to carefully open the compressor and slide out the thing he had worked so hard for, the motor. The cameras couldn’t see him behind the refrigerator. He tossed the two pieces to the side in what he hoped was a convincingly haphazard manner. In reality he was carful that the motor landed somewhat gently.
“What a piece of crap. Everything’s already broken.”
He got what he wanted. Ethan walked over to the discarded condenser tube and pretended to study it avidly.
“The condenser tube is part of the coolant system...so if it breaks then there'll be a bunch of refrigerant everywhere. Refrigerant is kind of noxious….we could potentially use it if we were careful.”
He looked over his shoulder at her and laughed.
“Ahhh, why am I explaining this to you? Like you can contribute anything. Now that we’ve got machines I can toy with instead of sticks, it’s best if you just stay out of my way and relax. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it; I can take care of us. That pretty little head is all you’ve got left now anyway, so take care of it. I mean, before you might have been able to rise above what you lack in mental capacity to be a musician but unless you can play the sax one-handed you are SOL. That’s okay, pretty is all you need. It got you this far, didn’t it?”
And now he had to see if he had won and done what he set out to do. He would have to for his plan-
His plan was being laid out on the notebook paper. Back in the office just a few minutes earlier he frantically scribbled out his design. His head bent low over the paper and his tongue stuck out, he wrote out the instructions for Feo.
So the general idea here is to use the motor that powers the fridge's compressor as a generator. You do this by turning the motor’s shaft, thus generating an AC voltage on the wires that normally supply electricity to it.
You should find the wires that run from the controller (fig A) to the motor, and strip their ends (fig B).
He flipped to the second page and drew a picture of the controller and labeled it as “fig A.” He then drew the wires, stripped, with a “fig B” next to them.
I’ll leave you a pair of pliers I found to do it. There’s also some small scissors from my first aid kit I’ll leave you. Use a blade of the scissors to apply pressure on the wire, then turn the wire while continuing to apply pressure. You should be able to see a bit of the inside wire. If you do, grab the end of the plastic insulation and pull it off.
Next, take the motor and jam the motor shaft into the hub of the rear wheel of the bike (fig C). That way when you pedal, the shaft will turn.
Once you’ve got that, go to the computer and find the Uninterruptible Power Supply (fig D) and cut the cable that goes to the wall, and strip those wires too.
Attach the leads from the motor to the stripped wires from the UPS (fig E). When you turn the motor shaft via peddling the bike, you'll be generating AC power, a lot like what comes out of the wall, and putting it into the UPS, thus charging the batteries in the UPS. The electricity you generate will be much lower voltage and current than the wall electricity, but the UPS will have rectification circuitry to charge the batteries that will make that fine and the battery will charge.
Once you do that for a fucking while, the computer will power off of the UPS batteries. A decent ratio of on-time to cranking time is like 1:10, so if you crank for an hour, you get 6 minutes of computer time. After you work out those legs for a while, you should have yourself an island computer.
He sighed and wiped his forehead. The easy part was over. Science was easy. He flipped to the third page and started writing the last part.
|Sunny Delighted||Nov 20 2010, 11:21 PM Post #6|
your mom has an incredible 2 seam fastball that compliments her outside curve & sinker down the middle. although many tried that night, she threw 7 scoreless innings and didn’t let a man get past first base.
Did he just
I know he didn't just
Did he really just say
NO, this fucker didn't. He DIDN'T just what I think, did he?
But he had, and she knew it. She knew it was going happen, she just didn't think it was going to be right then. She wasn't prepared to deal with this.
Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal, Ethan.
"I hate people like you. I always hated people like you. You think you're better than me, Ethan?"
She wasn't screaming. It surprised her. Not as much as the fact that she wanted to cry, but surprising none the less.
He was telling the truth. Hurt like a bitch.
She stepped closer to him, her steps measured. She ached. Her heart, her body, they both ached for him. But who was she kidding?
She wasn't good enough for her folks, and she wasn't good enough for this bastard here either.
"Being pretty did get me this far. Being pretty got you, Mr U-Ethan, to carry my bags around. Being pretty is what got you to save my fucking life, remember that shit?"
Why right now? Why'd you have to do this shit right now? I actually- God, I'm more stupid than I even KNEW.
She picked up the oar, fully prepared to kill him right there.
"I'm so fucking pretty, you let your guard down and fucked . . . I could have killed you. I should have . . ."
She was being so damn dramatic it made her sick. But he'd hit her in the most vunerable spot she had. The one vunerable spot she had.
She threw the oar at the door. It wasn't even enough force to break the thing. Weak AND dumb, fucking fabulous.
Finally, she reached him. She took the papers out of his hand, gently put them aside. She whispered in his ear, all harshness, no loving feelings.
"Good thing you don't have to be smart to kill. I'm good enough to live through this, and I'll prove it."
And she walked out the door, but not before saying one last thing.
"Vejo vocês no inferno, querido"
See you in hell, baby.
|Ruggahissy||Nov 21 2010, 07:37 AM Post #7|
Rewind several minutes. Back to the office where Ethan is sitting on the floor writing and Feo is looking around the cabin.
The pencil swooped and dipped, slinking across the lined dance floor. He wasn’t sure what to say exactly but he knew that if he didn’t say something, he would just sit there looking at the page and wouldn’t say anything at all, so he said everything. Everything he could think to write. It was his good bye so he had to make it good. Most of people get watch-out-for-the-bus-what-bus SPLAT but he was privileged to get this chance and he knew it.
His heart sped up writing the name. Keep going. You have to do it now, there’s no more time. No more time to be uncertain.
Since you’re reading this I’m going to assume Danya’s taken the liberty of relieving my head from my body. That’s cool, I was getting bored of this place anyway.
A pause in his pencil’s movement. He was actually getting a little choked up. There’s no time for that either. Just keep writing.
I took out the cameras in the office. Those other two pieces of paper I left you are instructions on how to get the computer running without electricity.
If you follow the instructions you should be able to get into the computer for a limited amount of time. This is a ranger station, so there has to be weather reports, maps, anything that has our location. Look for coordinates or a name of the island. Once you’ve got that, get out of here. This place is likely to become a danger zone in the morning since I expect they’d like to repair the damage I’ve done to the surveillance in this area. When you’ve got the location, try to sneak it into the broadcast somehow. I’m sure the government is monitoring these tapes for anything they could use to find us but I also know this thing has fanboys and when fanboys like something they will tear it limb from limb looking for hidden stuff. Yeah, I spent my last hour planning how to make electricity, I’m a nerd.
You’ve left something out. Go on.
If on the off chance that this works out and you make it home, do you think you could find my sisters and tell them that I thought about them and y’know, that they are some kickass ladies that I owe them a lot?
He bit his lip and glanced to the side. The memory of her flooded his mind and his lips pulled to the sides underneath his teeth. Good memories, great memories. The way she whispered his name, his fingertips grazing of the curve of her hip just before it sloped down into her waist. The best memories.
That goes for you too, Feo. I didn’t mean that stuff I said. I just said it to get you out of the house because I didn’t want them thinking you were in on the camera damage. Also I thought you might try to stop me. So, yeah. I just wanted to tell you that you rock, you really do. You’re sexy as hell and you kick ass. You can take care of yourself and you’ve got a great head on your shoulders. You’re funny and sort of bitchy (but I like that about you) and I’m glad I woke up next to you in the sawmill. This whole thing sucks, but it’s been a blast (get it? Blast!) hanging out with you even though I’m pretty sure you were telling me to fuck off in Portuguese half the time. I didn't think I'd like you as much as I did. You’re a cool chick.
For the first time since he woke up, he felt a little pang of regret. Why did he feel that? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it wasn’t regret at all, maybe it was something else. His thoughts were spinning too fast for him to catch them properly.
You meant something to me.
Was that the best he could do? Yeah, it was. He looked at it for a moment.
Feo approached him with her oar and her anger reaching it’s boiling point. He thought she was going to take a swing at him right then and there. He wouldn’t have blamed her and she deserved to get a shot in, but his eyes were trained on the oar and determined to dodge it. He needed to be awake to finish this. But she didn’t take the shot. She threw the oar at the door and walked away. The door slammed and he was alone now. Ethan wanted to call out to her, he wanted to say something so that she could hear his voice for the last time. He couldn’t though, it would raise suspicion. His palm curled into a fist until the feeling past. He was alone for the first time since he had woken up. Ethan walked to the door and picked the oar up. His muted footsteps against the carpet were the only sounds, though to Ethan, they were drowned out by the pumping of his blood that was making a racket in his head. He picked up the three pieces of paper folded together, picked up the pencil and wrote “Feo” on the top sheet. Ethan’s heart raced, his fingers became numb around the oar. He placed them on the table in the lounge area and looked up at the camera.
This is it. Show time.
“I’m alone….I’m stuck on this God damn island with no way home, alone. This is your fault.”
More, more. Keep going. What do people normally yell at the cameras?
“You cocksucker. Danya. I’ll kill you. I’ll find you and I’ll kill you.”
Good! Threatening to kill him. Perfect. Make them think you've lost it.
“I’ll find you, kill you, make your family watch as I cut you up and feed you to an alligator, then I’ll kill the alligator and make a pair of boots.”
This isn’t working, that’s just silly. Try something else.
“I’ll never see my family again. I’ll never see my sisters again. I had sisters. All because of you and your stupid fucking game. What the fuck is the point of this? You want to prove that all people are as sick and fucked up as you on the inside? Is that it? What is it? Tell me what it is?!”
Ethan swung the oar and it slammed into the kitchen window.
“Tell me, you fat fuck!”
The glass cracked. He swung again and again until the window shattered. The shards scattered all over the kitchen floor.
“I can’t even imagine what sort of people you got to work for you. This thing takes a lot of people to set up, right? I’ll bet. I was going to do something with my life! I was going to contribute to society and you fucked that all up! I could have done great things! MY LIFE IS WORTH MORE THAN THE LIVES OF YOUR WHOLE FUCKING TECH CREW!”
Ethan walked to the bedroom. He swept the oar down and broke through the screen of the small television set. He tried to pull it out, but it was stuck. His foot up against the t.v. he wrenched the oar out and black glass flew everywhere. Ethan pushed the t.v. onto the ground.
“Yeah, bet you got yourself the top graduates of the university of DeVry working up there,” he seethed. “Bunch of fucking geniuses.” He brought the oar down and started smashing the t.v. “You son of a bitch! YOU TOOK EVERYTHING! That’s what you do, isn’t it? You take everything from people. You take people’s families, their lives, their sanity, their FUCKING EVERYTHING and you leave them with NOTHING!”
He stopped. Ethan was breathing hard. His hands shook and he wiped his eyes under his glasses with the back of his hand. Adrenaline was racing through his blood. He walked to the office room.
“This is bullshit,” he said, looking up at the camera near the door. “If I’m going to die, I want to be taken out by the final boss, not by some kid from the chess club. I don’t want any of your circuitous bullshit about a classmate killing me. In the end, it’s you. If you hadn’t done this to us, they wouldn’t be killing. Even if they kill, it’s still you in the end. I don’t want you to be able to hide behind a scared kid. I want my blood on YOUR hands. I deserve to be killed by you.
He flipped the oar in his hands.
“You think it’s fun to take everything from people? Well maybe I should take something of yours.”
No turning back now.
With a swing of the oar he knocked down the camera. Quickly he ripped it away from the wall by the wires it still precariously hung by and moved to the second camera in the room. He swung the oar again, and the camera fell. He picked both up cameras, dropped the oar and leaped up onto the desk and out the window. Ethan’s legs flew, trying to get him as far from the hut as possible. He ran faster than he ever had before, there was no need to worry about triggering an asthma attack now. In the end, he wasn’t a player or a survivor. He took a third route and ditched out of the game early. He cheated his way out and left a way for the others to try and cheat as well.
“Always cheat, always win.”
Detonation of collar #B002 successful
B002 Ethan Kent: Deceased
|Sunny Delighted||Nov 22 2010, 04:54 PM Post #8|
Everything was so stupid. Fuck this game, fuck her classmates, and the next person she saw? She was going to fuck them up, until they were unrecognizible. With her bare hands if she had to.
But she really didn't have to, did she? Nope, all she had to do is go back to the station, go get her shit, and leave. So what was stopping her?
He was. Her weakness was. He was her weakness?
Get it it TOGETHER, bitch, you have a game to win.
She sucked it up, made her way back to the cabin. The bike was still in there, she could just grab it and go. No supplies that way, but her arms wouldn't take too well to carrying both a bike and her bag. Surely, someone would give a hot crippled chick some water.
Instead of thinking about the ugly truth about her alliance even more, she focused on Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, Louis Armstrong. Her only true friends, she supposed. She had just gotten to where the bike had been, to the second minute in Moon Dreams, when . . .
She heard a window crash.
She heard an . . . explosion.
Oh god, oh please tell me, nonononoNO.
She jumped at the sound, for a second she was flying through the air again. But she wasn't, not really. She closed her eyes tightly for a second, she KNEW whatever she heard wasn't good. She really didn't want to know what it was, but . . . she had to know. The bastard could be after her too.
Feo looked. And then, finally, after being dropped on her head and landing on death island and being blown up and mindscrewed and all the fucked up shit she'd gone through, she screamed.
Because Ethan was there, and his jaw was there too, but they . . . weren't together.
She ran over to the spot he fell at, a couple of feet away from the cabin. It didn't make any sense, why was he dead, she wanted to punch him but she didn't want him dead, not really, he'd fucking LEFT HER HERE.
Five or ten minutes, she just cried and cursed. In English, so he could understand. Then she saw the cameras. And she remembered Ethan was the smartest guy she'd ever had the pleasure of pleasuring.
Wait. Hold the fucking phone. He knew that taking the carmeras out wouldn't do any good. And he
Fuck babe, how smart are you?
"Ethan, remind me to slap the taste out of your mouth when I see you again. Fucking asshole."
Feo went back into the cabin, still sobbing. She found her answers, she found his notes, she knew what she was going to spent the rest of her life doing (yes you are a huge nerd, dipshit).
The tears ran down her face, but she had focus now. She sat down, wrote two notes of her own. The first she stashed in her bra. The second she took outside with her. While moving Ethan's body and sitting it (him, always him) by the door of the cabin, she thought.
I knew one of us had to go, and really, I hoped he'd go first. So I could avenge his death. But none of this damn kids offed him. Danya HIMSELF had to do that honor, didn't he? So I don't really give a fuck if I survive this anymore. All I want is to let that bastard know, no, EVERYBODY know I'm much more than a pretty face. All I want is my revenge.
And I'll get that. Thanks for trusting me with this, I won't let you down. I'll die first.
After finishing all the heavy lifting, she put her second note in Ethan's hand's and got to work inside the cabin. No way anyone could miss it.
Here lies the body of Ethan Kent. He's a genuis, no bullshit. He deserved better.
I don't really give a fuck why you came here. But if you come in, don't touch shit and KEEP QUIET. DON'T SAY ONE WORD.
You'll always mean something to me, Mr. University.
Edited by Sunny Delighted, Nov 22 2010, 05:15 PM.
|Ruggahissy||Dec 7 2010, 09:18 PM Post #9|
((Isabel Guerra continued from Faraday's Cages))
Isabel tromped at a steady, determined pace through the forest to put distance between her and Liz. She needed to be as far away as possible to ensure no one decided they were together. But was that all there was? No, she had to run from the girl. She had to forget that she abandoned someone in the forest to most certainly die. Logically, she had done the right thing, but there was a feeling of having done wrong.
Once out of the woods she saw a small house of some sort. If she remembered correctly there had been a ranger station on the map. She had seen it when they were looking for the river. She stepped out into the open ground before the house. In front of the station there was a boy sitting. Upon closer inspection, he was not just resting.
A note. A note to be quiet. And his name was Ethan. Seemed familiar. It was all rather curious. Slowly, carefully, she pushed open the door. She walked heel-to-toe and heard the cacophonous crunching of the glass under her shoes in the silence. She opened the door to a room and saw a girl on the floor with some contraption attached to a bike and….a computer. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from making a sound and the girl nodded them in. Isabel sank down next to the girl, she was very beautiful, and was handed a sheet of paper. She read over it and understood, passing the paper to Dave. As he read she took a moment to think.
Another escape. Another plan. Only they don’t seem to have noticed this one. I guess we can thank the boy for that. It’s risky. But…..what else have I got to do? Maybe I can help this girl to make up for the girl we left.
Dave had passed the paper and she looked up at him. She nodded to Feo and took her first shift on the bike. The back wheel was lifted off the floor by a toppled file cabinet and attached to the motor. Time passed, when it wasn’t her turn she’d lay on her back and stare up at the ceiling. She counted the little dots in the stucco. At one point she and Dave played tic tac toe. They played game after game, scrawling over the papers from inside the desk. Xs and Os filled the time, covered the floor, kept her from thinking more about the island. She won game after game. Isabel never thought she was especially good at tic tac toe, she supposed Dave just wasn’t very good at it.
Well at least I can always say I was tic tac toe champion of the island. I may not win Survival of the Fittest but I DO win at tic tac toe, and that’s ALMOST as good. Almost.
|Badb||Dec 22 2010, 09:27 PM Post #10|
Trained for combat by a cabal of hacktivists.
((Dave Morrison and Winnie Clark, continued from Faraday's Cages.))
Dave stuck close to Izzy as they walked, not wanting to get lost, get seperated from the rest of them. He wasn't sure what'd happened to Charlie taking over, but whatever'd caused that one had ended now. Everyone was pretty set on following Izzy to wherever she was going.
This time there were no games, no laughter, no impromptu rap battles. Dave just kept silent, keeping his eyes open for any threats, and looking back to check they hadn't lost anyone. He desperately wanted to say something; to crack a dumb joke, lighten everyone's spirits just that little bit, but for once he was lost for words. He'd open his mouth, try to say something, but nothing would come out.
He looked around. Izzy had ended up leading them to a small house out in the middle of nowhere. Great. Dave knew how this one was gonna work out. She rushed off ahead, leaving Dave to follow with the rest. Following after Izzy, Dave could see her knelt next to what looked like- a body? Dave jogged over, stopping close to Izzy. She showed him a note, clutched between the body's still lukewarm fingers.
Don't say a single word. Dave had that one down already. Hell, they all did, pretty much. That would be the easy part. The hard part would be what they found inside.
Hands raised, he walked in.
They were met by a girl, missing a couple of fingers, covered in burns. Shades of Liz. She was holding another note. Convenient. This whole thing was set up for someone to stumble upon, Dave guessed. The girl with missing fingers passed it to Izzy. She passed it to Dave. Dave passed it to Winnie. She passed it to whoever. The plan. What the guy outside had died for, and the instructions on how to make it. The thing that was now on the floor in front of him, assembled by an amputee. Shouldn't be too hard, right?
Never knew you, Ethan Kent. But you must have been a hardcore son of a bitch. A small eulogy to someone he had never talked to. Someone he'd have gone the rest of his life not knowing, a footnote at his graduation. Now he was lying outside dead and they were following his plan in the hopes it would get them out of here.
Funny how these things worked, huh?
Izzy took a turn on the bicycle. Dave timed it. She got off. Someone else got on. Dave grabbed a pen and a few scattered sheets of paper. Drew a quick crosshatch. Motioned for Izzy to play a couple of games.
They ended up playing for hours; every sheet of paper they could find was covered in noughts and crosses. Dave didn't win much.
Around his hundredth loss, he just sunk back and waited for his turn on the exercise bike.
B035 - Ray Gilbert - DECEASED - Guy Fawkes Mask - Too Far Gone
G029 - Zoe Leverett - DECEASED - Machete - To Really Be Alone, To Pick At All the Bones
|xylophonefairy||Dec 27 2010, 09:31 AM Post #11|
((Helen Wilson continued from Faraday's Cages))
Helen recieved the note from Winnie, and read it three times before passing it on, her heart thudding. Why was it that they seemed to attract rescue attempts? Not that she was complaining particularly about that, she would give most her limbs to escape this island (and then dedicate the rest of her life to stem cell research with the intention of growing new ones), but still, it made her uneasy. There was always a nagging voice in the back of her brain saying if you find somewhere good to hide then you'll be fine, just stay out of trouble, but she would probably be smoked out. Also, the countering part of her brain was telling her to enjoy herself, these were probably her last few days, yes, but why not go out with a bit of a bang, as Ethan Kent had done?
She had impressed herself with her ability to accept her fate. Helen had never given herself much credit for being a strong person, always assumed that she'd be the first to crack under a high pressure environment such as... batshit crazy island where half her classmates were out to kill her.
Staring at the contraption on the floor, she couldn't figure out if she felt more excited or fearful. It this went wrong they would probably all by killed. If this went right, they might all be saved. One of them was going to have to sacrifice themselves to get the information across, probably, the minute they started blurting information as to the island's location across the broadcast they were sure to get their collars blown. Immediately, and without telling anyone, she felt herself back down from that task. She needed to think of a way to get out of having to do it. If no one volunteered themselves what would happen? Would they draw straws? Decide it on the roll of a dice?
The time in silence gave Helen too much time to think. She thought about Liz, and wondered how she was getting on. Had anyone else managed to disable their collar with her help? Had she made it to the tunnels? She thought about their own mortality. She wondered what kind of information would be revealed, and a tiny part of her almost hoped that it wasn't anything useful so that they wouldn't have to sacrifice someone. To try and distract herself from her thoughts she started reading the book that she'd brought on the trip with her. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. It was difficult to get into and required a lot of concentration, which made it a terrible choice for a camping holiday, but a brilliant choice for their current situation when she needed to switch off. She found a pen in her bag a scrawled a quote on the wall, wanting to leave her mark for prosperity.
Strength is just an accident arising from the weakness of others
Bored of reading, she had a turn on the bicycle. When bored and tired from that, and after realising that it was just another opportunity to think, she got off and watched Dave and Izzy play noughts and crosses for a while. She retrieved a notebook from her bag (which she had been hiding so that it wouldn't get used for noughts and crosses) and wrote something on a bit of paper, something that had been bothering her for a while. It had first occurred toh er on the bike. This she showed to a couple of people in the room, wondering what their thoughts on it were. Because the truth was, she reckoned she probably would have tried.
"If Danya had promised a free ticket off the island in exchange for killing Liz, would you have done it?"
the world is on my side|
i have no reason to run
shiny shiny V5 concepts (now with clickies)
Phoebe Cho - I shall be playing Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E minor. Wizard!
Harry Hanley - I've got Hershey's at half price today! Get 'em quick before I have rehearsal!
Lor Van Diepen - I'm gonna make a video later. About running. Does that sum me up enough?
|Ruggahissy||Jan 1 2011, 10:13 PM Post #12|
Isabel had just completed another shift on the bike. She got off and sat down next to Dave when Helen had passed them a bit of paper with a question. She carefully took the pencil from Helen and looked at the paper for a moment before writing.
Yes. I would have.
She paused. The end tapped against her closed mouth for a moment while she thought. She thought of the announcements, of the innocent detonated classmate and the teacher still alive.
We should have.
Without looking to see what the reaction would be she picked up her bag. She leaned back down to write Gonna shower. Back in a bit. and put the pencil back on the paper. Looking around the cabin, she didn't find a bathroom or a shower. She walked out and finally saw a drain on the floor near the side of the cabin and a shower head. She grimaced a bit, but pulled the towel and travel sized shampoo from her bag.
Isabel sat down and took of her shoes. Her socks clung to her feet with sweat and dirt. She was keenly aware of the cameras outside of the hut.
Oh well, I guess my showering habits were going to be on television.
She peeled off her shirt and slid down her skirt. Both items were grungy and the shirt was a bit stiff. Isabel turned so that she faced the wall. It would be easier to pretend there weren't cameras that way. After fiddling with the taps for a bit, lukewarm water rained down. Isabel closed her eyes and her wet hair stuck to her face. The water felt good at least.
Simon....poor sweet guy. He's gone. He didn't deserve this. He only deserved good things. Allen is still out there too. Such a nice guy, Allen. I should have said something to him when I had the chance. I should have really gone for it at prom. I was just too scared. Is murder island really less scary than giving a guy a kiss? He doesn't deserve this either. Deserve....what does anyone deserve? I want to see Hayely. If I could just get to Hayley one more time. She's a murderer now. If I could find her she'd tell me they were accidents. They were self defense kills. The Hayley I know isn't a murderer. But maybe she isn't the Hayley I knew anymore.
From the corner of her eye she could still see the limp leg of the dead boy peaking out from around the corner. Am I bad for having abandoned Liz? Am I worse for thinking of killing her? She squirted about a fourth of the tiny bottle in her hand and smashed it into her hair. Isabel couldn't be bothered to find real soap, she just used the suds from the shampoo. The names didn't seem to fade much from her skin.
Trusty permanent marker.
Out of the same bag she kept the shampoo she pulled out a cheap, single blade, plastic razor. She took care of her underarms and went over her legs, trying to be careful of the many cuts that marked her ankles.
I wonder if my parents are watching. I wonder if my dad is watching. It would be the first time in a few years since he's seen me.
Isabel turned off the tap and used a small towel she packed to dry her self. She pulled the dirty shirt over her head onto her wet bra and jammed her skirt back into place. With her skirt on she slid her underwear off and put on a new pair under the skirt in an attempt to keep some modesty. There was still a new pair of socks in her bag.
At least I'm clean. Now I feel almost human again.
All nice and clean except for her outer clothes. She had packed more clothes but there was some strange determination she had to make it through in the same clothes she started in. Probably the same strange thing that wouldn't let her throw away that damn trumpet.
Barefoot, she took up her dirty socks and underwear and her sneakers and walked back to the cabin. She had to pass by Ethan again to get back in. Isabel knelt back down by him and looked at him. She recognized him now. He had worked at the math tutoring center. She gingerly took his glasses off of his face and put them on her own. The world was a blur. Isabel took them off and put them back on him, shaking her head. Isabel tilted her head and gazed at him a moment.
She stood back up with her things and walked back in. Right away she saw that going barefoot was a stupid thing to do. She tip toed around the glass littering the floor until she got to the sink and opened the drawer, tossing her dirty laundry into the garbage bin. Inside the room with her companions things looked unchanged. She sank back down next to them and looked at the computer. They had been peddling for hours. It wouldn't be long now.
Edited by Ruggahissy, Jan 2 2011, 01:28 PM.
|Sunny Delighted||Jan 4 2011, 10:51 PM Post #13|
After you work out those legs for a while, you should have yourself an island computer.
A damn island computer. You di- no.
We did it, babe.
All of a sudden, PEOPLE came. They came in droves, they came sliently, they came to help Feo in her crazy attempt to fuck Danya over (because this was still about revenge to her, always would be, until she died herself). If she didn't know any better, she'd think that Ethan planned this too. Which was entirely possible, knowing his smart, dumb . . .
She wasn't quite over the crying stage yet, but her tears were soundless. It was better that way, and it was good that no one could ask her what was wrong, because it wasn't . . . she still didn't understand how he had gotten under her skin like that.
Then again, the sex was kind of magical.
When everyone else was taking their turns on the bike (that she pulled off before they even got there, screw you Bayview teachers) she write music. She showered, made herself beautiful again. She'd put on lipgloss, eyeshadow, the works. It would seem bugfuck crazy to someone out of the loop, but this was her finest performance. And she'd be damned if she didn't look like a model for it. Well, a model with tear tracks molded in her face.
Wren would laugh, and be proud. Her parents would too, and Ethan . . . yeah, that bitch had better be impressed with her right now.
She knew she was impressed with herself, after all.
All of a sudden, the computer roared (okay, sputtered) to life. This dinky POS was what Ethan had died for. She glanced around, curious to see if anyone was going to take her moment from her.
None of them moved. Smart people, she might bother to learn their names after this little detour was over.
She sat down while one of them kept peddling. She dug and dug and dug and was afraid that she wouldn't make it, that she really was too stupid, that . . .
. . .
She wrote something down. once, twice, three times for luck. For luck, for love, for getting his message to his sisters, for getting them the FUCK OUT OF THIS PLACE.
Part one? Yeah, they'd done that that shit.
She grinned at the group and signaled for the rider to get off the bike and look at this.
Feo Eleri Smith sighed with relief. They were done here. Now for the part that most of them probably wouldn't live through.
What? She was happy, not dumb.
|Little Boy||Jan 5 2011, 06:56 PM Post #14|
STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
((Roland Harte continued from Shore Leave
The forest ended abruptly, the Ranger Station looming out of the shadow of the mountain. It looked bizarre to say the least, surrounded by debris. Quiet. Disturbing. Roland didn't like it.
Then again, there isn't much about this place I do like...
Roland crouched at the edge of the clearing, his knife loosely held in his right hand. The scene before him was strange. The station appeared almost untouched, but there were telltale signs of activity. Primarily, a dead body directly outside the fucking front door. If that wasn't a good enough sign, he didn't know what would be. Upon first noticing the corpse, Roland had gotten down low and directed Kitty to do the same. There would be nothing worse then walking straight into a trap and watching his teammate get their head blown straight off.
The problem was, there was absolutely no activity within the vicinity of the house. Roland was utterly stumped how he should proceed. The Station would make an excellent headquarters, but if it was occupied the risk of approach was deadly.
"What do you think?" He asked, looking back towards Kitty. "I don't want to go get our heads blown off. But this would be a great spot to just camp out for awhile."
He'd been trying to bounce more of his decisions off his companion ever since the confrontation with Jackie in the woods. Kitty had stuck to her guns, and frankly it was impressive considering his initial opinion on the girl. She wasn't exactly in the same basket as Pandora Black after all. Funny that. And fortunate too. He'd gotten rather intense back in the woods, but now with some room to relax and breathe, he was rethinking his strategies especially those concerning Kitty. His ambition had probably scared the girl, and he'd been trying to tone it down, at least for now.
She isn't exactly a meat shield, but I can't trust her in a straight up fight. I've been dragging her around, telling her how to stay alive. But that's not what I need. I need someone on my level, someone who isn't only around because I can cut people's heads off. A second in command. Something like that. Someone who could think of a way OFF this fucking rock. Fat lot of good I'm doing, nosing around this fucking forest... Kitty probably doesn't have a clue where I'm coming from. Oh well... Strategies aren't written in stone. Revision is what'll keep me alive.
"I think I'm going to go up for a look. Stay here."
Roland shimmied backwards, dropping his pack behind a nearby tree. Raising Vera, Roland cleaned the blade of the knife on his pant leg. It didn't work well. Roland was looking to be an absolute mess. He hadn't had a decent shower since the day of the trip, and the idea of leaving Kitty alone to go take one in a creek was... awkward. His rather hasty burial of Robert hadn't helped his clothes either. His sweater had been washed the best he could manage, but the pungent scent of blood and vomit still lingered, much to his disgust. He'd thrown it away just a few hours before, now only wearing a grungy black t-shirt. Still the memories of that horrid night lingered with him, occasionally plaguing him with doubts.
I was right, I know I was. Even if I wasn't, it's done now. Kitty got out, and now it's all fine...
Rising to his feet, Roland pushed his glasses up his face and slicked his hair back.
"Alright. Be back in a bit."
With that, he approached the cabin.
Ethan Kent hadn't been dead for long. The boy's body was propped up in a sitting position at the entrance of the Ranger Station, his jaw blown off, most of his neck gone. It was a gory scene to say the least, and Roland muttered a quick prayer before going any closer. He knew Ethan. Well, he didn't know him. But he'd seen him, heard his voice. The weight room at school, a few classes together... Roland could feel his anger building up inside him as he approached his dead classmate. Ethan was smart. Ethan had deserved better.
Good. Build that anger up Roland.... When I meet Danya, I'll kill him by inches for this.
Roland bent down, looking at the note in the dead boy's lap. His brow furrowed as he finished. He read it again, just to be sure.
... But if you come in, don't touch shit and KEEP QUIET. DON'T SAY ONE WORD. Something is up.
Rising, Roland turned gesturing for Kitty to move forward. Roland turned back towards the house, letting out a breath. Something was definitely up, but something that could very well be a good thing. Roland was willing to chance it. Ethan was smart... maybe he had found a way out? Kitty approached, and Roland quickly filled her in on the plan, whispering quickly to her. Sheaving Vera, Roland nudged his glasses up his nose.
"Something's going on here, keep quiet, don't move inside until I tell you it's safe. Might be a way out. Above all, no talking from this point on." Roland whispered.
Turning, Roland regarded the door.
I've got nothing to lose...
With a push, Roland opened the door, entering the building. Quickly looking around, his heart began to race faster, a million questions on his lips. It was agony, he covered his mouth to avoid blurting anything out.
Feo Smith?... Dave? ISABEL? Jesus-
His eyes darted around the room, taking everything in. There were five of them in all, Feo Smith and Helen Wilson, along with another girl Roland only barely knew, Winnie Clark. Dave and Isabel looking no worse for the wear then when he had left him back at the fair.
What the fuck is going on?
Whatever it was, there wasn't any murderers lurking about. Breathing in deeply, Roland slowly brought his hand down to his weapon. Unsheathing Vera, Roland slowly placed the weapon on the ground. He waited a beat, checking the inhabitants reactions. He hoped his disarming displaced any mistrust. After making sure it was all good to go, Roland turned towards the door and opened it. Nodding that it was safe, Roland held the door open for Kitty as he once more looked over the cabin inhabitants.
What is going on...?
Edited by Little Boy, Jan 5 2011, 06:58 PM.
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle
NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
|Ciel||Jan 6 2011, 04:24 PM Post #15|
"That’s not a prediction, that’s a spoiler.”
(Kitty Gittschall continued from Shore Leave)
Kitty didn't like this place. The trees ended suddenly and it took her a second to get her bearings. The sudden end to the trees, the shadows gathering over the Ranger Station like a looming monster and just the whole atmosphere of the place... It was a pretty damn potent cocktail. This place gave her the creeps and she could tell Roland was feeling the exact same thing. Roland and Kitty finally saw eye-to-eye on something. Huh.
Of course she didn't realize that there was activity going on in the station. She was much too far away to know that for sure. She felt that there was something inside the Ranger Station but she thought it was a silly thought. The place looked like a haunted house, where ghosts of her fallen classmates roam and at first Kitty just flipped her hair at the thought. She finally caught sight of the dead body. Her eyes went wide. No wonder this place was giving her the creeps.
Roland motioned Kitty to get down and she did as she was told. She got down on her haunches, looking between Roland and the front door of the Station. Roland asked what Kitty thought she should do, a move that surprised Kitty. She couldn't recall a time where Roland asked her opinion about what they should do. Most of the time she just kept quiet and let him stroke his own inflated ego.
"Umm," she thought, the sight of a dead body still shaking her mind. Shit. What the fuck were they supposed to do apart from either walking up there all hunky-dory, sitting and watching the door or leaving the place altogether? This was rather sudden, and Kitty was just used to keeping her opinions to herself. "I think we should -"
Oh, well, Kitty should have figured Roland wasn't going to listen to her. God damn it. Kitty huffed as Roland started to drop his stuff. A suicide mission to be sure, an idea that Kitty definitely would never suggest. But hey, it was his funeral. Besides she didn't see anyone around apart from the dead body... so Roland would definitely be okay. At least she hoped. She hoped? When did she ever use hope?
"Sure." She said, rolling her eyes. "Be careful." Make sure not to get yourself killed, you fucking asshole.
Kitty watched as Roland walked off. She looked over at the scene before her... and she wasn't impressed. She couldn't see the blood. All she could see was the faint outlines of a body that was propped up. It had to be a dead body... or maybe Kitty was just assuming that. A nasty habit, assuming.
Kitty balled her hand into a fist. She winced, her eyes closing reflexively. Her arm was getting better. It still stung but at least she was able to move it. Could she swing this bat? Maybe, not very hard but she could probably give it a good swing if she must. Roland motioned to her and she stood up. That had been quick. Perhaps things were clear? Kitty wasn't too sure about that. She had a bad feeling about this. She quickly grabbed Ethan's bad, her bat in her good hand. She made her way quickly across the difference bef-
She stopped. The scene was worse up close. Ethan had not been lucky. Perhaps it was her condition that had desensitized her from the previous cadaver. but Ethan's body was worse, the blood just pooled all around in big splatters, many of which lumped like little slugs. Pieces of skin scattered the scene like little islands, torn up and twisted and disgusting. The worst part, oh god the worst, were the bones. The bones, Ethan's bones had been bent outward, his jaw disfigured, his neck distorted as if the few bones that were left opened his neck up like a curtain and it - the whole scene disturbed her more than she could have ever imagined. The ever-growing bile in her throat was forcing it's way up and she felt this tremendous feeling of guilt that she had never felt before and she, she, turned away from the scene, closing her eyes. Had to forget it. She was tougher than this. She walked over to Roland, opened her eyes.
Roland whispered in her ear...
She forgot about the dead body in front of her. She wasn't glad about the plan, she was more surprised that this was even possible. She stared at Roland.
"This is... wow..."
Thank god Ethan. You managed to do something that over one-thousand past kids could have never achieved. You actually fucked with the system.
"Alright," she nodded, a little meek but definitely with energy.
Kitty step forward. It didn't take her long to scan the room. There were people... and they were busy. Just as Kitty should have figured. She looked back at Roland before turning back.
... a computer. Electricity. Ethan was right. If he were still alive, she would have hugged him.
"Don't just stand there. Go and talk to them."
She had to do something. Taking the initiative, Kitty quickly flipped her own dufflebag. There were mics right? Yes, that was why it was silent. So be it. If they were going to escape, or at least they were going to try to escape, they couldn't be talking like a bunch of dopes. She got back up to her feet, zipped her bag back up and dropped it.
A sketchpad and a marker.
She pulled the cap off with her teeth and scribbled. She was a quick writer, and her hand ran across her page at lightning speed. Ethan was the one who inspired the idea. It was a good idea, better than just asking what they were doing. Surely the ones watching them wouldn't be able to read anything that they write. It was innocent. It was smart. So. She finished, pushed the cap back onto the marker. She walked up to one of the girls near the computer, each step cautious. Isabel? Was that her name? Kitty pushed the book into her lap.
I just read the note. We're here to help. My partner's right behind me.
Talk with this. I'm pretty sure these collars have mics.
Edited by Ciel, Jan 6 2011, 04:32 PM.
G052 - Reed, Jasmine - 86% - Falchion - START → →
G060 - Pfeiffer, Scout - 100% - Bonesaw - START → → → →
releases greatest hits album, is an one-hit wonder
|1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)|
|Go to Next Page|
|« Previous Topic · The Ranger Station · Next Topic »|