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Everyday is like Sunday
Topic Started: Apr 19 2011, 01:15 PM (5,566 Views)
Chib
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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
[The Youngest Was The Most Loved --> Ema Ryan and Hayley Kelly]

Having been a danger zone for all of Day 7, the Southern Cliffs weren't the greatest choice of destination for the dynamic duo, following the events on the beach just north of them. In retrospect, it would practically be an insult to Ema's first victim to go get herself killed stupidly, completely wasting her life by negating any chance at it being a step towards Ema - or at least Hayley - making it to the end. And yet, after interminable hours meandering around the south-east corner of the island, suicide almost seemed like a step upwards. With the Mansion set as a danger zone, though, heading past it felt a little too dangerous, so wandering around the woods and the plains to the east of the Greens was all they could do.

In the end, the two camped out (read, slept on towels under a blanket, as usual) in a small copse just shy of the danger zone boundary. Tired and still feeling the unusual psychological effects of committing a murder in cold blood, Ema was content to curl up and fall asleep rather quickly, hoping the dreams she'd had a few days prior were still a one-off.



In spite of her better judgement, when Ema awoke before the announcements once again, she decided to get up and go for a walk again. This time, she was sure, nobody would be in the immediate vicinity, and if they were, she wouldn't flip her shit and open fire again. She made sure not to stray too far south until Danya revealed whether or not the cliffs were still a danger zone, instead enjoying the coastal air from a distance, relishing the dim early dawn sunlight. With the scant cloud cover and the sun low on the horizon in the east, it managed to be pleasant for once, and Ema even left her hood down.

Eventually, though, the inevitable sound of a smug man through unseen speakers made itself audible. Ema dreaded the next inevitability, her name starring in the announcements for the first time. And whilst it was better to be noted as a killer than dead, it was better still to just stay completely incognito.

"Good morning, kiddies,"

Good morning, Captain Smarmy.

"My, my, if we don't have a new record. That's right, twenty-nine of you perished in the past twenty-four hours. I'd crunch the rate, but, well, that's what the statisticians online are for."

Again? At least I'm not alone, I guess.

The announcement played out as usual, but this time, it wasn't her own name that gave Ema an unwelcome surprise, not first, at least. No, whilst she'd put an end to Sapphire fairly early in the morning, she'd been demoted to a footnote behind some of the more interesting, less bland deaths of the previous day. Namely, Madelyn Prowers' suicide, that one was troubling. As far as she remembered, Maddy was Catholic, and killing oneself wasn't something they did lightly. Something really, really bad must have happened. Ema wasn't sure if Hayley was still asleep as she'd left her, but sharing that news wouldn't be pleasant, if it needed doing. In spite of herself, she stole a glance back towards where they'd camped for the night, nobody awake in sight just yet.

"It seems Ema Ryan has picked up the arbitrary point-and-shoot tendencies of her girlfriend, as she gunned down Sapphire MacLeod."

And there I am. Hm, girlfriend though? I guess it is official, then.

Ema almost slapped herself there, disappointed that her opinion could again be so easily swayed by mention of Hayley. There were more important things to be thinking about than lust, or love, or whatever it was between the two of them. It wasn't worth dwelling on, better to just let it play out as it will, and focus on staying alive, which she'd been doing a fairly decent job of so far.

"Oh, and stay out of The Mansion, The Mine, The Parish, and The Greens. Also, you can mark The Tunnels off your list for the rest of the game."

Mansion still off limits, with the Greens added as well. In hindsight, then, it would've been safe to go west through them last night after all. But hindsight's 20-20, so for another day, heading west or northwest was off limits. Presumably going around the Groundskeeper's Hut would be okay, though.

For the time being, however, Ema was happy to be able to head south to the edge of the cliff. To enjoy the wide open ground, devoid of human intrusion for the past 24 hours, perfectly safe for the next few, provided she didn't stray too close to the poorly fenced-off drop. A great empty plain to spend her morning on, and try not to think about what the rest of Day Eight might entail.

What a way to spend a Sunday morning... no wait, that was supposed to be yesterday. I suppose every day can be Sunday here. No school to worry about, but always that underlying dread of what's coming tomorrow... except it's potentially dying tomorrow, instead of having to go back to school.

Again, she tried not to focus on how very wrong it was for her to be trivialising things so easily, and instead on how doing so made it easier to face the future.

Nope, don't dwell on the wrong, cross bridges like that when you come to them. Just... trudging slowly over wet sand, back to the bench where your clothes were stolen...

In no time, Ema found herself humming along to yet another Morrissey song that had wormed its way into her brain, reciting the lyrics as best she could remember within her head. She didn't even notice when it started coming out of her mouth too, a low mutter at first, getting a little louder with each line.

"Hide on the promenade, etch a postcard; how I dearly wish I was not here..."
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.


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

The Past
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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.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Good morning, kiddies."

Hayley blinked, wiping the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes. Not that she'd been sleeping, no, Ema had unknowingly woken her up the moment she climbed out of their bed-thing-that-was-in-fact-towels and wandered off somewhere. Hayley had woken, restless, from a nightmare she couldn't remember, and her immediate instinct was to climb out of quote-unquote bed, right after her girlfriend-type-person. Are we putting labels on this? Are we doing that? Is there a point? Not really. no. ...Girlfriend-type-person? Wow, I'm all over the English language today. She managed to repress that urge for the moment, though, for a few reasons. Number one, clearly Ema needed some alone time. She'd needed it the day before, after that whole face-shooting bit went down, and Hayley had denied it to her because of her own fear, her own lack of faith in Ema. Number two, Ema didn't exactly seem like she needed protection at this point. Number three, what the fuck had her protection gotten anyone in this game, anyway? It had gotten Alex and Maddy nowhere- who knew where the fuck they were. It had gotten Kyle killed. Well, really, he was trying to protect her, but semantics.

Oh, yeah, and number four, fuck getting out of bed, these towels were comfortable and shit.

Not that she had much time to appreciate it, since it seemed like only seconds before Danya did that thing where he was a fucking asshole. Maybe she had fallen back asleep, after Ema'd gone, who the fuck knew? She was awake now, though, and soon enough she was crawling out from under the blanket, because announcements were coming, and there was absolutely no positive outcome. Either there was nothing- except the reminder of what Ema had done the day before, and that sucked pretty bad by itself- or someone she loved was dead. And the odds skewed more towards that result with every passing day.

"My, my, if we don't have a new record. That's right, twenty-nine of you perished in the past twenty-four hours. I'd crunch the rate, but, well, that's what the statisticians online are for."

Damn. Twenty-nine was a lot. Twenty-nine was a classroom full of corpses. It was an ugly number, too, and Hayley wanted no part of it. She took a moment to dig through her bag, fetching Vera and- she still had bread, yeah? Yeah, she did, and she tore off a chunk. Breakfast. She ripped through the stuff as she made her way in the direction Ema'd gone. The other girl couldn't have- wouldn't have?- gone very far. Right? Yeah. She considered stopping for a cigarette, but really, how many did she have left? Not enough. At least, not enough if she was actually likely to live much longer. That not being the case, she grabbed her pack and her lighter. That'd do.

Her speed increased as names she didn't know were read out. Twenty-nine was a lot and she had quite a bit of karmic debt to pay off. Her whole body ached, begging her to go back to bed, but she couldn't do that. She just couldn't. She needed to wake up anyway, yeah? She needed to be awake. And she needed Ema. Her Ema.

Her Ema?

She barely had the time to think about the implications of that. Barely had time to consider her feelings for the millionth time, because Danya was doing that thing where he was an asshole, and that thing where he was shattering her.


"Madelyn Prowers gave up all hope or something and blew herself up. Yawn. It's getting old."


No. No...no, no, no, that...it can't-

Her arms found their way around her, her fingernails finding purchase where scabs had already begun to form in her sides, and those scabs ripped, and under her shirt she could feel the tiniest trickle of blood. Her nails were long and way too sharp and she didn't really care because she was busy trying to hold her pieces together. Pieces that hadn't healed yet. Pieces that were being held together by duct tape and denial and her hands, clutching at her sides, trying to keep her from falling apart. Literally. Somehow. For now, at least, she had to keep listening. There might be more to hear.

She sped up further. She'd need help, keeping sane, now.

Two more interesting names passed by her ears. Dustin Royal was dead- she knew him, of course she knew him, he was everything she'd want to be if she'd been born with a dick, and she was sort of sorry to see him go, and she'd probably be a bit more sorry if she wasn't preoccupied. Liz Polanski was dead, too. That was bloody fantastic and she was only upset she hadn't been able to do it herself. Vicious, maybe. Because she definitely cared right now.

She heard Ema's name, too, and the word "girlfriend", and a strangled "hah" escaped her lips, almost like laughter but not quite.

Suicide. No. Can't be. Maddy...how? She'd never. Maddy would never, she's not...she's not the type. Isn't that, like, a sin in her religion? She wouldn't. What could've made her? What fucked her up so bad that she'd...she'd do that? Why? She...if I hadn't lost her, if I was with her, she wouldn't have...it's my fault. It's my fault- no, it's not, I didn't do anything...I wonder if someone hurt her, I wonder, what happened? Who can I kill for this? Who can I...

That's what this game's reduced me to. My best friend's dead and I just wonder who I can take my revenge on. My best friend...


Not a euphemism this time. Not like with Ema. Ema was something different entirely but Madelyn Prowers was her best friend in Bayview, probably tied with the still AWOL Alex, and now she was dead, and she was gone, forever, and there was only one person in the world right now who could understand, because Ema loved Maddy, too.

She stumbled forwards, further, for what felt like forever contained in maybe five minutes, down, south, towards the cliff. The cliff that she vaguely remembered was no longer a danger zone, a cliff where she saw the silhouette of the girl she loved. Like the woman in the folktale, waiting for her husband to come back by sea. The thought brought her back to reality for a moment.

I can't break. I'm not allowed to break. I made a promise that I keep breaking, to protect people, and I can't even try to fix that if I'm a mess. Ema needs me. Ema needs me alive and conscious and whole and I need to...need to hold myself together, at least for now. For her. She's...trying to hold it together too, after yesterday, and if I...I can't let her down. I have to be strong. Be strong. Be fucking strong, girly, make it happen. Maddy'd want you to protect Ema. Maddy'd want you not to cry and she'd want you two to stick together and she'd want you both to be okay. You can do that. Can't you?

But her hands stayed put.

Hayley took the steps that still separated her from Ema, listening, hearing song on the air. A song she recognized, even. Was that Morrissey? That was definitely Morrissey. Everyday is Like Sunday. Her mother loved Morrissey, she'd heard this song in the house before, sick childhood I had, and it sent another pang through her that she buried, keeping the pain out of her voice as she finally spoke.

"Heh...girly, keep singing like that and the kids back home are going to think you're some little emo kid. And then I can't talk to you. Ruin my rep, you know?"

A weak laugh escaped her. She wasn't as whole as she wanted to be, but when Ema turned around, she found the strength to let herself go, take that last step forward, and wrap her arms around her girlfriend, her Ema. And for that moment, at least, her feelings were unmistakable.

And when her lips met Ema's, well, she hadn't planned on it, but it took the sting away.
Edited by Hollyquin, May 10 2011, 10:18 PM.
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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Chib
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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
[Would wait, but it's been 14 days, so...]

"In the seaside town, that they forgot to bomb..."

Ema continued to walk forwards, finally finding herself at the low chain fence, a rather shoddy means of preventing people from falling. Salt on the air and years of neglect had left the barrier in a sorry state, sagging limply in the middle and making an unpleasant grating sound whenever the wind took it particularly strongly. Not far along it, no more than a few hundred meters at most, lay a large boy in an even sorrier state. Further along, more inland, was yet another, his neck gruesomely blown apart, barely still anchoring his lifeless head. The reminder of mortality wasn't pleasant, but it was, in a way, rather a welcome one. It woke Ema up, made her pat down her pockets to ensure she was still armed, got her properly alert again. So she thought.

"...come, come, come, nuclear bomb. Everyday is li--"

"Heh...girly, keep singing like that and the kids back home are going to think you're some little emo kid. And then I can't talk to you. Ruin my rep, you know?"

Ema whirled around, grabbing frantically for the handgun in her inside pocket, only to release the air she'd rapidly taken in in a short sigh of relief. Just Hayley. More awake than she'd thought. Less alert than she'd thought herself to be. Even less so when she couldn't do a thing to react to arms wrapping themselves around her, though soon enough, she didn't want to. She was embraced, and embraced Hayley back. Their lips met. And she felt good again, the feeling she'd come to live for, only a few months ago, and good God was it nice to have back again. To have her Hayley back.

Hers. All hers.
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.


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

The Past
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Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
[Sorry this took so long, we're here now]

((Jay Holland continues from White Sparrows))

"Fuck this show. Danya, just- just suck my dick or something." Jay moaned, trudging forth through the forest.

It wasn't an eloquent statement, and it didn't have much meaning. But Jay wasn't a very eloquent person. Or had much of a meaning. He was a stoner, a wannabe drop out- he was tired and sweaty, he'd slept little and hadn't had a good meal in a very long while. His life had turned upside down, and he was plagued by maddening thoughts.

If I'd just smoked a little more weed- let my grades slip a little more, I wouldn't be in all this right now.

He didn't know if it was the correct usage, but the whole idea of dying for his high school diploma seemed fucking ironic. The trees were all a blur, and had been ever since they'd left David Meramac behind to die. There wasn't exactly much Jay could do about it, Janet would never tolerate them hauling some half dead kid around, and it was far to risky to grab him with so many people buzzing around. It was literally Survival of the Fittest to her, and it scared him just a little bit. Jay knew David would have died eventually, would HAVE to die if he was to ever see home again. But the whole situation still made him feel terrible.

It wasn't like the situation had ruined their partnership. Jay hadn't dared to bring it up since they'd departed. For the most part Janet seemed happy, and that was good. Her wound was looking better, at least to his untrained eye. Sometimes he even thought he could see a smile, cracking through her stern face and straightforward demeanor. It was then that he tried his hardest to be upbeat, to keep the jokes rolling, despite all his complaints.

Jay sighed, stopping and scanning the area. His pistol was still in his pocket, at the ready. He didn't want to kill anyone, but he couldn't run anymore. Janet would have him by the balls.

And it wasn't just that. If they were aiming for endgame now, he'd need to deserve it. That was what Janet was doing, and that was what he had to do too. He didn't exactly know what that entailed, but he knew that first and foremost, he couldn't run away anymore. He needed to man the fuck up, and take things seriously.

Okay, so, winners don't run. Okay cool, I can do that. Light jog, yeah, doesn't say nothing about that. Doesn't mean I HAVE to kill them, that's- yeah. Janet could. If. Yeah.

He grimaced at the thought. He didn't want to think about death any-

There was a loud squeal and Jay jumped back, looking up into the trees.

"Oh God fuckin-..."

"Good morning, kiddies."

Well shit. Announcement time, the worse time of the day. Twenty Nine in Twenty Four. It was really coming down to the wire now. There couldn't be that many kids left.

"JJ Sturn learned the hard way that shotguns trump words when he messed with Jimmy Brennan. His heroic last stand was one for the highlight reel, though, even if it proved entirely futile..."

"Oh that ginger bastard. Who the fuck gave that kid a shotgun? And how the fuckin' crap does he have the brains to pull the trigger? Shit... John had a shotgun. Maybe he got it after John...-"

"Janet Binachi returned to the scoreboards by beating in David Matson's head."

Jay froze, his mouth dropping open. His brain nearly broke in place. He spun to her, his mind in full panic mode.

It was impossible. He'd been with Janet ever since the fair. How had she killed David? Had he been hallucinating? Had Danya mispoke? Was he imagining things, or had she ran off in the night to finish the boy off? A million thoughts ran through his head in the span of a few brief minutes, and Jay was sure he was going insane-

Wait. Meramac. Matson.

Jay paused.

That kid that attacked us. HIS name was David. Different David...

Oh.


Jay looked toward the ground, and felt that odd urge to hit himself again. Matson, Meramac. Two different David's but they both were as good as dead, killed directly and indirectly by Janet. Jay thought back to the horrible scene. Running forward, freaking out, crying for Janet to stop. The boy going for the gun, his brains splattered in the wet grass...

So his name was David.

"So... S-so we got two. People will probably be looking for us now." He stammered, unsure of what else to say.

The announcements droned on, announcing more dead. That girly boy Viv had gotten slaughtered, and Naoko Raidon had gained another kill. He wasn't certain, but he was pretty sure that was the fourth or fifth one.

Dustin was dead. Jay had never been close friends, but they'd run in the same social circle, and had been a friendly face at parties. Especially when dragging ladies upstairs. Jay had always been convinced he'd one day get Dustin's sloppy seconds- Now that he thought on it, he was rather glad that hadn't ever occurred. That crazy chick who had been blowing collars... Liz. She was dead. Strange, in that Danya didn't tell who the killers were. For some reason, that fact made him shudder.

Was there something worse lurking around the island? Like, a bear or something maybe?

Sierra Manning was dead- but it wasn't the name that struck him- but more so the manner of death. Friends killing friends. Shit. He gulped hard, purposefully avoiding a glance at Janet. He didn't want any one of them getting any ideas. The announcement ended soon after, and the pair were left where they'd started.

"Shit... So, where too now?" He asked, looking at his companion.
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
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"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


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armeggedonCounselor
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D--> I need a towel
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Janet Binachi continued from White Sparrows.))

For the first time in... several days, Janet found herself in a remarkably good mood. Maybe it was because she had not slept for about a day, and was currently at that point of tiredness where the world became much more amusing. If she had to diagnose herself, she would admit that her insomnia was probably stemming from a form of PTSD, although it was probably also a little guilt. And besides, if she slept, there would be no one to keep watch. During the times they weren't moving, Jay slept like a log.

She would never admit it, especially to Jay, but she kept seeing the faces of the boys she had killed. It was strange, because at first it hadn't seemed that bad. But as time went on, those small voices niggling at the back of her mind started to get louder, scratching at the hard shell she had tried to project to keep them out. She had, after all, betrayed her principles. On the first day. She would never admit it, but Jay.... He was better than she was. At least he had only ever used his weapon out of fear. At least he had never killed. He had stuck to his beliefs. And the worst thing was... she was trying to drag him off that pedestal.

'I'm trying to keep him alive.'
'Bullshit. You're trying to prove to yourself that you're not a failure for betraying your principles. You're trying to prove that it could happen to anyone. And the worst part is... it's not working.

Janet was startled out of her navel gazing by the screech of the sound system. Automatically, she tuned it out. She hadn't listened to any since the beginning. It would help keep her objective, keep her from getting upset if she heard names she knew.... Not that she had a lot of people she would really care about....

Instead, she watched Jay's body language. There was a moment he was so surprised, so scared, she looked around to see if there was something coming. But the moment passed, and then he looked like he felt like an idiot for a moment, then he stammered something entirely obvious. Although....

"I don't think we have to worry about player killers. There are targets with far more notoriety than me."

The announcements ended soon after, and Jay looked at a loss. He asked the question on his mind, what now?

Janet sniffed slightly. The wind was blowing from the south, and carried with it the smell of salt. Janet pulled out her map, examining it closely. "I think we're near the Southern Cliffs.... We should head toward them. Maybe find a way to the bottom of them."
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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.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
This was gonna last forever. This had to last forever, because the alternative stung quite a bit, and not just literally. Except nothing ever lasts forever, least of all the things you wish would, and Hayley pulled back sooner than she'd like, her arms still wrapped around Ema but her face betraying her pain. She looked away from Ema for a moment, out and away, at the sky. Then back at Ema. Then back to the sky. Then back to Ema. I'm on a horse. She was going to do this, dammit. This staying strong thing. It was gonna be cool and awesome and she wasn't gonna cry like a little bitch at all, not that Ema seemed to really need a rock right now.

Unless she's pulling the same shit. Wish she wouldn't. If she cried I'd feel a hell of a lot better and holy shit that sounds bitchy.

Whatever.

"Maddy..." Hayley started simply, and even that, just that, made her shut her eyes. Take a deep breath. She was not gonna cry and repeating that like a fucking mantra in her head, over and over, not gonna cry, not gonna cry was not helping. She thought about other things instead. Like the weather, and how awful this fucking bread was, and how things were gonna be ok-no, not that, anything but that but frivolous, pointless things, like how sore her feet were and how she'd kill for some hiking boots right now. Shit like that. She disconnected her words and her thoughts.

"She...she'd be glad we're alive, yeah? Alive and...together." Hayley managed a smile at that, even, but her voice was hollow. Still thinking about fucking hiking boots. She changed the subject. "So, er...any destination in mind? I feel like we've spent the last week on one half of the island, there's all this...this stuff we haven't seen yet-" And now she was talking way too fast. "I mean, er, anywhere you want to go? Anyone you want to...to..."

She trailed off. Who was there but Maddy, honestly? Ema wasn't the most social person in the world, really, and Hayley had Alex, but what did Ema have, now? She had Hayley and Hayley was doing that thing where she was completely useless.

"I-I...she..."

Fuck it. Fuck everything, she couldn't do this. She could see Maddy in her head, except her eyes were closed and they refused to open and she couldn't think about it anymore. Completely at a loss, she returned to her comfort zone. Pressed her lips to Ema's, yeah, that would solve everything for another couple of moments. Gotta last forever. Yet again.
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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Chib
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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
The embrace lasted no more than a minute, and yet it seemed to drag on into eternity, seconds lost their meaning and seemed to blend into hours. Maybe that was wishful thinking, Ema certainly wanted it to be so. If it never ended, if time around them continued to seem to pass by at a crawl, if nothing else in the world ever mattered, then she wouldn't have to be afraid any more. No running back and forth, evading their potential killers and becoming killers themselves. No more rationing their food and wondering if it's worth keeping watch at night. Just Hayley and her on the lip of that cliff, in each other's arms, happy. Thinking about it that way, from a third person perspective, it must look awfully picturesque.

Of course, that was more than wishful thinking, that was outright delusional. But delusion was really all Ema had left to cling to, with only one source of happiness still remaining in the real world. Reality was fucked up and terrifying. She didn't want to be in reality.

Reality didn't give her a choice.

Hayley pulled away. Her arms stayed fairly close around Ema's midriff, but it wasn't close enough. She looked... conflicted. Trying to say something, but not sure how, or perhaps even what. Trying to hold something back, too. Sadness? Anger? Tears? Could be anything, just about anything from the spectrum of human emotion could be justified by now, they'd probably seen enough to evoke about every response possible.

"Maddy..."

Tears, then. It still hadn't quite hit Ema herself, but she understood well enough that it must've hit Hayley like a freight train. Something to look forward to when I'm feeling less disconnected... Hayley closed her eyes. This couldn't have been easy. Ema thanked whatever providence there was that she still couldn't really comprehend much that had happened. People had died, she'd contributed one such death, and it meant something to her, certainly meant something... she just had no idea what.

"She...she'd be glad we're alive, yeah? Alive and...together."

It made sense. Ema nodded. Wondered at the tone, as to why it seemed so impersonal, when Maddy's name had been spoken as if on the verge of tears. But feeling - in her own words - disconnected as she was, she couldn't call attention to it in good faith.

"So, er...any destination in mind? I feel like we've spent the last week on one half of the island, there's all this...this stuff we haven't seen yet-"

Still empty, but now with that telltale sign of distress, speaking far too quickly, stumbling over words, rushing to say what she wanted to say. Trying to articulate after waking up to be told one of your closest friends has killed herself, after all, must not be the easiest thing in the world. Too busy was Ema with trying to figure out what Hayley was feeling, her prior desire to return to the pier she'd woken up on a week ago was entirely forgotten.

"I mean, er, anywhere you want to go? Anyone you want to...to..."

The sentence trailed off into awkward nothingness. Ema didn't have the heart to answer, only to stand there, looking awkwardly back into Hayley's eyes. Where was there to go that was of any real significance? Who was there to seek out, now that just about everyone Ema had been fond of in Minnesota had already died? Alex, perhaps? Ema hadn't known him terribly well, but it wouldn't be a stretch to call him a friend... but they hadn't the faintest idea where he was. So there was nothing. Just travelling where whim takes them, trying not to die, trying to rationalise killing anyone they saw and thought they could get away with killing. Some life...

"I-I...she..."

Back to the subject of Madelyn, then. Not easy to talk about, like before, bu-- oh. Hayley was kissing her again. Ema didn't protest. It was nice, the last escape that was really left to them. Something innocent, human, enjoyable. Something that wasn't Survival of the Fittest. Ema tightened her arms' grip around the troubled girl, and kissed her back.
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.


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

The Past
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Jay trudged through the forest, in a rare moment, silent. He didn't know what to do. It wouldn't be long before the numbers would drop ever lower. 70. 50. The top twenty, the final five. What would happen then? He couldn't abandon Janet. It just wasn't in the cards. How long could he hold out for? All the way to the end? He wasn't sure if he wanted to make it too then. So many good people were dead, it just didn't seem all that fair. He kept the thought to himself as he walked, slightly ahead of Janet. He had no idea where the Cliff-face was, but Janet had pointed him in the direction and he'd begun to walk.

Stupid Danya. Stupid game. Stupid feet, stupid everything.

He breathed out. He wanted desperately to strike up a conversation with Janet, but he had no idea what to say. Maybe they should talk about bands. He always liked band talk. Jay shrugged, opening his mouth and beginning to blather away.

"So, this is a kinda odd question- do you like KISS? I mean- it's an odd question. Considering we're currently in this nightmare world filled with y'know, death and gore and super depressing themes and... I don't know. I think this whole thing would be easier if you liked KISS, y'know? Or- or any band that I'm uh, that I'm familiar with."

He kicked at a broken branch, sending it tumbling into the bush. They walked on.

"S'like. What the fuck else are we going to talk about? How dead everyone is? Hah. I guess bad taste but... yeah. I could never stomach depressing shows. I mean, I tuned into Survival of the Fittest like- once. With Jojo and... I think it was Etain? Yeah. Yeah, it was Etain, I think it was at his house. We were curious right, and uh, I don't think you know her, but this Russia chick, "Bounce" or whatev, she recommended it to us. And we were kinda stoked, but the episode we saw, it was just a few guys walking around and talking, just shooting the shit like we are right now. Early game, probably..."

"Etain and Jojo tuned it out, but I fucking loved it. It wasn't like, some overproduced high brow shit y'know, with kids talking at a university level about God and y'know, philosophy and all that. I think they were debating about.. chess? Or something? It wasn't a scene for the highlight reel, if you get my meaning. Yeah. It was refreshing, but I never watched it again. Because I'm pretty sure they all ended up dying. And I mean, I can stomach blood, but jeez, too depressing. I'd rather sing, y'know, talk real, have a good time, considering there's an audience out there. I was singing earlier. When- when I was with Jojo, before we uh- before we got split up."

He paused temporarily. What had he been talking about originally? KISS.

Right, KISS.

"So I mean, I suck at singing and all that- and we can't really sing, not right now with so many people potentially around, but yeah. If we ever get some downtime, or you're just feeling kinda, y'know, shit...- maybe I can entertain you with that. Keep your spirits up, y'know? 'cus like, I fucking love my voice. I think I'm addicted to talking. I'm so fucking conceited, it's awesome! But yeah, in any case, I hope you like Paul Stanley."

Jay smiled, despite everything that'd happened. He felt pretty good, getting that out there. He opened his mouth, quietly singing to his companion, strumming an air guitar.

"She wears her satins like a lady.... oh, she gets her way, just like a chiiiiiiiild. You take her home, and she says MAYBE. BABY. She takes you down- and she drives you wiiiiiiiilllddd..."

His voice rose as he continued, his strumming growing faster as he went on. He sauntered through the woods, his smile growing. This was something he really needed. A brief respite from all the chaos, if only for a little while. Janet wasn't a killer anymore, he wasn't a coward. They were just two kids, one trying desperately to get in the others pants.

The thought was laughable now, but it just made him all the more happy. He was going to die a virgin. His life sucked, but at least he was chaste.

"'errbody says she's lookin' good! AND THE LADY KNOWS IT'S UNDERSTOOD!"

With dramatic flair and a sudden surge of youthful enthusiasm, Jay jumped forward through a nearby bush, hitting the ground on his knees and scuffing his jeans. He raised one hand up in the air, in a thumbs up gesture, the other still strumming away on his air guitar.

"STRU-"

Jay looked up.

His mind stopped working.

OH.

Hayley Kelly stood in the clearing, her bruised arms wrapped around a small ginger girl.

MY.

He wasn't sure why they were standing so close at first. He knew he should have been concerned at the fact Hayley currently had five kills under her belt. But despite his extraordinarily circumstances, Jay was a teenager first and foremost. All that didn't matter. Especially in the face of hot lesbian make-outs. They didn't notice him at first, as the kiss continued, seeming to never end. He wanted to yell out to her, not in fear or anger, but in joy. He held back, covering his mouth to avoid any more shouting even as his eyes went wide from the glorious sight. They'd notice him eventually, and Hayley would never forgive him for cock blocking her.

But that was a good thing. Despite the pain and the death, and his own inadequacy, it was still the same old Hayley Kelly from back home. Some people had changed, but Danya hadn't turned Hayley into hate-fueled monster. And that made everything slightly more alright. He couldn't wait any longer. He staggered to his knees, a goofy grin on his bright red face. Once more, he had no idea what to say.

"WOAH."

Very eloquent.
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D--> I need a towel
[ *  *  *  * ]
Janet walked along, lost in thought. It was a familiar thing. She enjoyed taking long walks to clear her mind. Unfortunately, here, her mind only became more muddled as time passed. Actually, Jay's blathering helped her mind clear slightly. His off-key singing, however, did not help her mood. She lasted through it as they continued, and when he hit the peak point of the song, she was just about to snap at him when....

He stopped, staring slackjawed into the clearing they had just entered. She followed his gaze and saw two girls. Hayley Kelly, who had been on the announcements several times, and... some other girl. As they had their faces pressed together, Janet couldn't properly see who was who. She glanced at Jay, who was still staring slack jawed and letting out an astonished WHOA. She gently closed his mouth, then patted him on the cheek.

"It's impolite to stare, Jay."
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Hayley heard singing.

This was the thing, though, she couldn't possibly be hearing singing, because to hear singing would be to accept that someone was singing, and to accept that someone was singing was to accept something that could not possibly be happening. First of all, it was day fucking eight here on Survival of the Fittest- who had shit to sing about? And second of all, who was enough of a dumbass to sing, loud enough to be heard, on any day, let alone when the game was more than half over? Hayley knew stupidity- in her approximation most of Bayview was lucky to find the school in the morning without help- but still, this was ridiculous, and she was going to put it down to her brain giving her auditory hallucinations to distract her from this whole matter of her dead best friend.

Thank you, brain.

Exactly how unwilling she was to disconnect from Ema had, of course, not a thing to do with the matter.

But then there were rustling bushes. Her brain wouldn't make up auditory hallucinations of rustling bushes unless her brain fucking hated her, given that it immediately put her on edge. The only thing that prevented her from immediately disengaging Ema was the comforting knowledge that whoever was approaching was obviously a fucking idiot, but after a moment, and a loud noise that might have been a word, sort of- something like ”WOAH,” she whirled around, pointing Vera in the general rustling-bush direction, thanking God and Buddha or whoever that she'd actually remembered her gun this time,

She was quickly just as thankful for the promise she'd made herself the day before. Thou shalt not kill anyone who isn't waving a fucking gun around or whatever. No more shooting people at random, which was good, because had she not decided that one of her closest friends would have had a case of acute lead poisoning before she even noticed who he was.

As it were, though-

“Holy shit.

First she was going to need a moment. A moment to process that this was, in fact, who she thought it was. Jay fucking Holland. Stoner extraordinare. One of the best people to have by your side if there was a party to go to, and when your name was Hayley Kelly that was pretty much all the time. The two of them had had some good fucking times, and maybe he wasn't the first person she wanted on her side in a crisis, but hell. He might be an idiot, but he's my idiot.

“Holy shit, Jay! JAY MOTHERFUCKING HOLLAND!” She was grinning her face off. This was brilliant. Fucking brilliant. She dropped her gun arm and started walking towards him. “How's it been, man?”

She wanted to run and tackle the kid, full force, because it was so amazing seeing Jay being Jay and not a broken shell. Maddy was dead because something on this island changed her. But if Jay was singing like a fucking idiot in the woods on Survival of the Fittest- yeah, same kid. But at this point, caution was key, especially because she was who she was. A known killer. Plenty of people in this game would probably shoot her on sight, not that she thought Jay would. He looked plenty happy to see her-

She remembered suddenly exactly what he'd interrupted. That would explain the look on his face, yeah. Same old Jay, pretty much.

So she walked, giving him plenty of time to shoot her in the eye if he felt like it- she couldn't be scared, not of Jay Holland, never ever- and eventually stopped dead in front of him, still grinning like an idiot but whatever, really. “You're alive! I mean, like, I knew you were alive, you haven't been on the fuckin' announcements-” she hurried past that point, past the obvious as opposed to me, who has been on the announcements quite a few times now “-but still...man, you're NOT DEAD. That's fucking awesome. I love it when my friends aren't dead, it's been happening less and less lately.”

Hayley frowned for a moment. Making light already? Really? You were crying like five minutes ago. But nothing could really bring her down right now. Jay Holland, in the fucking flesh. This was glorious. Jay Holland and-

She noticed for the first time that he wasn't alone and looked over at his companion, a girl who looked vaguely familiar. She had been...at Alex's party, wasn't it? Jay'd been hitting on her. Well that worked out. Sort of. Her name escaped her for the moment, so she just spared a quick nod before turning back to Jay and said something she probably wouldn't have said to anyone else at this point on the island.

“Want a smoke?”
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.

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Chib
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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
Singing? Heh, that was funny, the only person odd enough to be singing in a situation like this had to be Ema herself. So why would she be hearing it? Because she was coo-coo pants, obviously. Nobody could actually be singing, because she wasn't, and there wasn't anyone else around, and if they were, jeez, how crazy were they? Besides, she couldn't be, her mouth was busy. It must just be in her head, so, jeez, how crazy did that make her? Well, another thing for the list of things for Ema Ryan not to dwell on. Stop thinking. Keep calm and kiss the girl. Deal with encroaching SAN loss later.

...

No, that singing was definitely audible. It was getting closer, too. Music in Ema's own head never changed distance, it was always just... in there, so to speak. Directly within her brain, with one volume and no concept of displacement. The volume was variable, but never for the same piece of music, that would be weird. As if the rest of it wasn't. So it was real, and someone really was singing. It was confirmed by the sounds of movement, the rustling and the twig-snapping, just about audible under the volume of the boy's take on... God, was that... some kind of hair metal? Ema could no longer pretend to ignore it, she opened her eyes, not long before Hayley too reacted physically. Which is to say, whirled around and pulled a gun out.

Ema would've gone for her own, but it didn't take long to realise the newcomers were no threat.

No wait. Ema corrected herself.

No immediate threat. Might be armed and hostile later on, but for now, not a threat.

Paranoia everywhere in this bitch.

But back to the second dynamic duo in question, and how Ema actually knew they weren't dangerous. Because Hayley instantly lowered her gun and gave them (well, one of them) a greeting about as warm as she'd received a week prior. Turns out his name was Jay motherfucking Holland, and Hayley was happy to see him. The girl's identity remained a mystery.

"Want a smoke?"

Ema's palm made its way swiftly to her forehead. Of course. Jay was one of Hayley's non-herself friends. The kinds that do the sex and drugs and rock and roll thing. The whole drinking and smoking deal. Well, she wasn't about to deny them a self-destructive reunion, so Ema just gave a sort of impassive wave to the as-yet unidentified Janet, holding out hope that she wouldn't be joining them, leaving Ema to stand upwind by herself.

On the bright side, new friends. That's gotta be worth something.
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.


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

The Past
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"It's impolite to stare, Jay."

Jay felt his cheeks flush bright red. He stumbled to his feet, moving over towards Janet, giggling despite himself. He wasn't sure exactly why. He'd seen Hayley kiss many people before. Hell, he was pretty sure he'd been introduced to her WHILE she was making out with someone. It was nothing new. Yet given the situation at hand, it was just so mundane. So routine Hayley Kelly, mackin' on somebody when the going got rough. To see it on Survival of the Fittest, of all the places in the world...

It made him want to cry. Hayley- she was going to die. They all were going to die, more then likely. Only one would remain. But it wasn't only despair. They were still sane. They were still themselves. So he indulged it, that little scrap of normalcy hanging on inside him, playing it up for everyone to see, as if to give just one more "fuck you" to Danya.

"Hayley! Fuckin' Hayley Kelly!" Fuckin- Holy shit! You're here! You're-" He couldn't stop smiling. In a fit of spontaneous energy Jay leapt towards Janet, wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

"Janet, Jesus Christ, can you believe our luck!?"

He let his companion go, heading towards Hayley and the other girl, his arms wide, a stupid grin stuck to his face.

"First off, it's been fantastic! We've been chillin', we've been having the time of our lives! And you know what else?! I LOVE bein' not dead! That's amazing! It's just one more thing we've got in common y'know!? And third off, I'D LOVE A SMOKE! I WANT ALL THE SMOKES YOU GOT, - ALL OF THEM- AS MANY AS WE CAN RATIONALLY HAVE! AND THEN, ONE MORE ON TOP OF THAT, JUST BECAUSE WE CAN!"

Jay couldn't hold it in any longer. He finished his walk over to Hayley with a light jog, before colliding into his friend, squeezing her tight and slapping her on the back. She might think it was awkward, but fuck it if he cared. Too many of his friends were out there, too many he'd never see again. Hayley was here and he wasn't going to waste a second showing her that yeah, he did give a shit about her.

Jay didn't care about what could happen just then. If Hayley had yanked out a knife right then and there, stabbed him in the face, hell, he'd even be okay with that. At least he'd been up front with her, and at least he'd die doing the right thing for once.

He didn't know why it was the right thing... but some things he just knew. "Up is up, down is down, Hayley Kelly is my friend." All the pain she'd caused... all the awful announcements, the five dead kids attached to her name... That came second to showing her just how much he cared.

"Man, you had me so worried! I thought- I was so fucked up whenever I heard you on the announcements, but- just- fuck, I'm just so glad to see you man!" He blinked back tears, breathing out a sigh of relief..

"You have no idea Hayley..., seriously."
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
[[OOC: Permission to skip Dete, granted. Also...post 500? Fuck yeah.]]

Everything was beautiful and nothi okay no, she wasn't going to say that or think it anyway because first of all every time she did something bad happened, and second of all her best friend continued being dead, and that fact continued to skitter around her brain, begging for attention, trying its hardest to make her stop with this whole happiness thing. You can't be happy, it said. How can you possibly be happy? Jay's awesome and everything but he isn't Maddy and he's never going to be. It's not an equivalent exchange. Maddy's gone. Maddy's gone! How are you just letting that go?! But Jay's enthusiasm was contagious, and for now Hayley let the little voice be.

He was so adorable, though. Like, since when was Jay Holland adorable? Not the first adjective that came to mind when she thought about him, but he was jumping around like a particularly playful puppy ooh, look, alliteration. He practically tackled the other girl, what was her name, dammit, she knew her name deep down, somewhere-

"Janet, Jesus Christ, can you believe our luck!?"

Okay. Right. Janet. Yeah. Yeah, she knew that, sort of. She'd spent most of that night in a state of not-giving-a-fuck drunken stonedness (I'm making that a word, dammit) so the memories were kind of...fuzzy. That'd been a good party, Alex was always good for a night out, not to mention Jay, and she'd gotten Kyle to come somehow, Kyle didn't do parties, Kyle was stop right there, yeah?

Jay's grin perfectly mirrored her own. Much as her brain was trying to betray her- this was a good moment. This was a fantastic moment, actually. She hadn't been this ha- scratch that, she hadn't been this happy sober in quite a while, and at this point every happy moment could really be the last. But she wasn't going to think about that, either.

"First off, it's been fantastic! We've been chillin', we've been having the time of our lives!"

Somehow Hayley figured he was exaggerating. Just a bit. You're having the time of your life on Survival of the Fittest, your life has been crap. Unless he had weed....DOES HE HAVE WEED. I WILL SCREAM HOLY SHIT no okay Hayley relax be good and be cool and stuff yeah. How long had he been with Janet, anyway? Hadn't she...she had a vague memory of that name. The bad luck name, Janet. There were three of them. Two dead. One killer.

No points for guessing which one she is. Her smile faded just a tad, but honestly, could she really judge killers at this point? Hayley was quite positive she'd done worse. Janet was no Maxwell Lombardi.

"And you know what else?! I LOVE bein' not dead! That's amazing! It's just one more thing we've got in common y'know!?"

Oh god, he is sooooo dumb. But sooooo entertaining.

"And third off, I'D LOVE A SMOKE! I WANT ALL THE SMOKES YOU GOT, - ALL OF THEM- AS MANY AS WE CAN RATIONALLY HAVE! AND THEN, ONE MORE ON TOP OF THAT, JUST BECAUSE WE CAN!"

Someone hasn't smoked in a while. Her grin returned full force as the boy embraced her, giving her the time-honored, traditional, patented man hug which she returned with just as much no wait that would be physically impossible, but almost as much enthusiasm, anyway. The thing was...Jay wasn't afraid of her. Anyone on the island now would see Hayley fucking Kelly, she who has killed five people so far, she who was obviously and totally a player, and run screaming in the opposite direction, or at least send some hot lead spinning towards her skull. But not Jay, and Jay's a fucking pussy, so if he's not running he must really trust me.

That was nice. It was nice, not being confronted or feared for once. She'd have to keep an eye on Janet- she didn't know her well enough to be sure she wouldn't try anything, but Hayley couldn't kill her, for Jay's sake. But that was okay. It's worth it.

Thankful for her foresight in actually bringing her nicotine fix along with her, Hayley dug in her pocket and retrieved two cigarettes, handing one to Jay and lighting it like the gentleman she totally was before lighting her own. Inhale. Exhale. It had been a while, and her lungs thanked her. ...Probably not, actually, but if I die from lung cancer that would be a fucking miracle.

"Man, you had me so worried! I thought- I was so fucked up whenever I heard you on the announcements, but- just- fuck, I'm just so glad to see you man!"

Waitwaitwait hold up holy shit was he tearing up? Her smile faded entirely, then. He was getting emotional. Over her. God, this place is really fucking with us, isn't it? I can barely get myself worked up over my best friend dying and now JAY FUCKING HOLLAND is freaking out because I'm NOT dead. He hasn't killed anyone, right? Yeah, he hasn't. Maybe killing just deadens you. Wouldn't be surprised.

"You have no idea Hayley..., seriously."

"I...a lot of shit's happened," Hayley said simply, scratching her head as she took another pull. "I...well, the first kill was me freaking out over nothing, and the second one was this asshole threating Ema and K- right. Ema, Jay. Jay, Ema." She made the introductions quickly, motioning to the two of them.

"The other three, though...like. Okay. This is gonna sound shitty, right? But I can't make sure someone I care about wins this shit if everyone else is still alive. Even if they're not killers, like...right, what was that boy's name? Andrew? Look, think of it this way- you're wandering through the woods and you run into this kid. And he freaks out, even though you're not trying to pull shit, and he panics, and he shoots you in the face. And then you're dead! Except now he can't. Cause he's dead. Does that make sense? I'm...I just want to keep people alive and shit. Ema. Alex. Isabel, Dutchy. You too, man. Gotta keep you alive since we all know you can't do it yourself."

Justifications.

Fuck off.


Her smile returned slightly then, but her next words came out a bit hollow.

"I mean...I've lost people. My boyfriend-" and it came out like that automatically, 'boyfriend', not 'ex-boyfriend' or anything else- "died a few days back. My best friend died yesterday. Just found out, you know? But...you know. Survival of the Fittest."

Inhale. Exhale. Calm down. Keep it optimistic and shit, girly.

"Like...time of my life's kinda much, but there's been good shit too. Like...fuck, this island. Shit just happens. You wouldn't even believe me if I told you."

Of course she was going to tell him what happened the other night. She had to, because the look on his face could very possibly make this whole Survival of the Fittest thing worth it. Not with Ema around, though. Hayley didn't feel like being shot by her own girlfriend(?).

"Ema, darling, do you mind exceptionally if Jay and I go forth and conversate and give ourselves lots and lots of lung cancer? Like...er, you and Janet. Make besties and such. Yeah?"

You are rude as fuck but whatever. Manners are overrated when you have less than a week to live.
Edited by Hollyquin, May 14 2011, 01:20 PM.
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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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
Enthusiasm explosion. The whole not having the first idea who Jay or Janet were, besides Jay's name, kind of put a damper on it for Ema. As did the whole disconnection thing, to be painfully honest. Human contact wasn't really at the top of Ema's agenda; given the choice, she would've gone to her room, lay down, maybe put some music, maybe try to make a dent in that pile of unread books, maybe just try to shut the world out for a while. Ease herself back into the whole "humans are social creatures" thing.

Yeah, that'd be nice...

But access to her room was kind of limited by miles of ocean, and a collar that'd explode if she tried to cross it. Because Ema was still on an unidentified island, she still had a gun in her inside pocket, she still needed to outlast about 100 more people to be allowed to go home. And rather cyclically, that was why she felt so numb, so distanced from what had happened, from what was still happening. A self-perpetuating cycle. Being surrounded by death and madness drove her to feel almost nothing, and feeling almost nothing allowed her to kill, allowed her sanity to slip slowly away.

What I wouldn't give for a soft bed and a good book right about now...

At least the introversion Ema would've sought out was still available. Just set off on a trail of thought and get lost on enough tangents, and there it is. Any semblance of focus on the situation at hand was lost - Hayley was there and they were friendly, it's fine - and instead, Ema lamented how long it had been since she obliged her - admittedly few - hobbies. How she'd never get a chance to improve her poor K:D ratio or beat Mile High Club on Veteran, how she'd never manage to finish Through the Fire and Flames, how her dreams of flying would remain dreams, how she'd never make it as far as College.

As her thoughts took more and more turns for the dejected, it showed quite clearly, physically. She slumped visibly, eventually electing to sit down and rest her head in her palms. In all the rush and adrenaline of the prior days, Ema hadn't had the chance to think about anything but the present, and finally looking to the future that was bleak in all reasonable probability, it hit her more than a little bit hard. And yet still, she couldn't muster emotion to feel anything for Madelyn, or the girl she'd killed, or those Hayley had gunned down before her eyes, or the other two hundred odd students she knew to be dead by now. Maybe it was subconsciously enforced pragmatism, or maybe there was something deeply wrong with Ema, but thinking about how she would never speak to Maddy again, play with her, hear her laugh, see her smile... it didn't mean anything. It all came across as matter-of-fact, not something to concern herself with beyond the truth of it. The same went for the consequences that came with having killed a person in cold blood. Ema recognised that they existed, but the anguish, the regret, the remorse, they were all frighteningly absent.

It hit her then, that evidently all she cared about presently was herself. The realisation, the self-accusation, it stung. She wanted to deny it. But she couldn't, not in good faith, nor in honesty. There'd be time enough to care about other people when she was back in Minnesota, or better yet, back in Ireland. If surviving to do that meant not giving a damn what happened to anyone else on the island... Ema wasn't truly okay with it, but it was a good enough excuse to stem the guilt, to help her believe she was only a selfish coward thanks to the circumstances, not by nature. Because believing in lies was important.

"Ema, darling,"

What? Oh. Right. Other people still existed. The world did not revolve around Ema or her personal drama. She needed to remember that.

"do you mind exceptionally if Jay and I go forth and conversate and give ourselves lots and lots of lung cancer? Like...er, you and Janet. Make besties and such. Yeah?"

Oh, so the girl's called Janet.


Ema rose to her feet, shakily, but not noticeably so. She approached the others, shaking her head slowly, impassively. She didn't mind, but neither did she currently trust her voice to say so with. She pushed the untidy mass of ginger aside from her face, and tried to muster some words, something to say to Janet, to "make besties". How can she keep acting so chirpy? But there was nothing, nothing that wasn't awful, at least. So she settled for something simple. "Uh, hey."

And even that came out awful. Not in her old slightly-choked throat-clear-causing style, worse, in a new kind-of-flat-and-emotionless idiom, trading out cute-in-a-piteous-way for creepy-in-a-creepy-way.

At least I'm not shooting her, that's something.
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.


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

The Past
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"I...a lot of shit's happened,"

"Understatement of the year" Jay quipped, digging his hands deep in his pocket, surveying the surroundings. He still couldn't believe how it had happened. Jay didn't know if God was real or not- but he was thinking of placing the entire encounter in the 'Miracle' category. It couldn't get any better- well, it could- they could NOT be here, they could be with there friends, having a blunt, Danya could be dead- but he couldn't afford to be picky.

"I...well, the first kill was me freaking out over nothing, and the second one was this asshole threating Ema and K- right. Ema, Jay. Jay, Ema."

Jay's smile started to fade. Of course, something always had to spoil it. He'd always imagined he'd run away as soon as he'd encounter Hayley- He'd pictured her coated in blood, stabbing random people in the face. Of course, that hadn't happened. Of course, things had to be a lot more complicated then that. His heart fell as she started to explain- what the hell was he supposed to think? He thought back to Maria... back to David, and that random decapitated kid back at the fair. Things were terrible all around. It would never be simple again.

"Oh, 'sup Ema?" He turned to the other girl, flashing a peace sign. He didn't know her- she didn't exactly look like a party person. Still, a friend of Hayleys- a hot lesbian friend of Hayley's- was alright in his book. A plus was the fact he'd never heard her name on the announcements. He looked back at Hayley, and she continued.

"The other three, though...like. Okay. This is gonna sound shitty, right? But I can't make sure someone I care about wins this shit if everyone else is still alive. Even if they're not killers, like...right, what was that boy's name? Andrew? Look, think of it this way- you're wandering through the woods and you run into this kid. And he freaks out, even though you're not trying to pull shit, and he panics, and he shoots you in the face. And then you're dead! Except now he can't. Cause he's dead. Does that make sense? I'm...I just want to keep people alive and shit. Ema. Alex. Isabel, Dutchy. You too, man. Gotta keep you alive since we all know you can't do it yourself."

Okay... Okay, that, that's sorta scary.

Jay didn't know if he should feel sympathetic, or what. Hayley was his friend- but he'd expected better justification then this. He could feel his heart sinking down in his chest, burrowing deep down. He stuttered as she finished, trying his best to look not completely horrified.

"I... Guess... Yeah." He managed to get out, looking back toward Janet. He wasn't very good at displaying complicated emotions, and when it was an odd mixture of fear-sadness and an attempted 'Stay on your guard' look... well he just flat out failed. Hayley was still talking, he heard her mention Kyle. His heart sank deeper, but at least this was better. This was a topic in which they were on the same page. Kyle had been a good friend.

"Yeah... Yeah I heard that one. I'm sorry Hayley, seriously, shit..." He scratched the back of his head, unsure of what exactly else to say, if anything. Hayley saved him, grabbing two smokes. It was a little worrying just how fast she was bouncing the topic around, and his feelings along with it. But hell, they'd spent 8 days in the woods, running scared. He couldn't expect it to be perfect. Still, he could work with it. Couldn't afford to be picky.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go smoke!"

Jay had quit smoking awhile back- not so much because he wanted too, but because weed had put a real dent in his pocket, and a pack every two days was keeping him in a perpetually broke state. It hadn't really been quitting... He smoked whenever he could bum one off someone. But being Jay Holland, that was hard to do. Jay had no idea how exactly Hayley had run by some cigs, had she brought them up camping? Probably. In any case, he wasn't going to complain.

Hmm. Last Cigarette. Knock on wood-
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