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Monsters; Private.
Topic Started: May 3 2011, 06:10 PM (6,068 Views)
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
(Andrea Raymer continued from Can Fall Down)

[note - this post encompasses times and situations that have not yet occurred. Specifically it takes place mostly during an upcoming timeskip. I apologize in advance for that, but we're on a tight schedule with these characters and can't really afford to wait. Should anything in future posts invalidate what occurs here I will edit in response]

Andrea awoke. Again. Seemed she'd been doing that a lot lately, lying down and passing out and waking up. At least there were no accompanying song lyrics this time.

As she'd also been doing a lot lately, she brought a hand up to feel her face. It had been disinfected, bandaged. By Allen, of course. It stung like a bitch and she was still sure something was broken, but it was better than the half-assed job she'd done. She'd look pretty silly once she put her glasses back on, though.

It had been a couple hours since she'd stumbled into the makeshift campsite by the grocery store, which itself had been a couple hours after Alex White crashed the party. And since his encounter with Andrea had been such a rousing success, he'd apparently decided to turn it up a notch for his next audience. Allen had seen her and practically had a stroke, and everyone else was busy dealing with injuries, grief, exhaustion, or grave-digging. The whole area felt creepy, like she'd stumbled into something post-apocalyptic, and Andrea herself felt small and out of place. These were the kids she was supposed to find and fuck over the game with? Isabel Guerra? Felicia Carmichael? Her ingenious new plan already seemed a million miles away.

Never mind that. It'd all be fine. What was important was that she had that plan. She had a plan; she had a plan; she had a--

"Hey Andrea."

GAH.

"Hey Allen." Well of course it was Allen.

She answered his question before he could ask it.

"I'm doing just peachy, thanks."

Allen had, in his trademark half-terrified manner, filled her in on all the details while fixing her face. Quite the uplifting tale, it had been. All the fucking work she'd put in to find Allen before Alex did, to warn him in advance and get her drugs back, to tell him all her great new ideas, and well, things weren't exactly working out that way. After Allen finished telling her how Alex had killed the two girls and then started on himself and Isabel, she'd had enough and politely told him to shut up and let her rest for a while.

"Andrea." Allen was talking again, ducking his head. "I mean, I'm sorry but he had Isabel and he... he just stabbed her. He drove that spear into her and... I just had to stop him. I didn't want to, but..."

"Wasn't your fault, Allen." Andrea said.

God, she was tired.

"Fuck, if anything it was mine."

"How was it your-" Allen started.

"I dunno, OK? Just... I mean, I'm a fuckin' drug dealer and I never even told you that, I shoulda.. I dunno warned you earlier or something." Arrgh, this wasn't even making sense to her. She just felt like shit, no shocking revelation there.

"I'm just glad that you're OK." Allen said. He looked tentative, then rested a hand on her shoulder. "I thought he'd... well really hurt you worse than he did."

Andrea couldn't help but smile at that. "You're sweet, Allen. Seriously, not trying to be sarcastic there. And you're uh, I dunno, genuine."

More than she was.

"I'm good at taking advantage of guys like that, so I'm uh, sorry if I ever did that with you. I dunno, I'm talking kinda nonsense here, I mean I'm practically going withdrawal I think."

Oh, there was no 'practically' about it.

"Alex take everything?"

She caught Allen ducking his head again. "Yeah. I think there's a bottle of Aspirin left in there, but that's it."

"Well, whatever," Summed up the situation eloquently, didn't it? There was sweet fuck-all could be done about it now.

Andrea shooed away any remaining sleepiness and got to her knees, Ugh, she needed something to occupy her mind for a bit. Checking her bag might accomplish that.

"He grabbed a couple of your grenades off me," she said, pulling the zipper. "Guess that makes us even?"

Andrea rummaged through the lonely remnants of her supplies. Thank god her other shoes were still there, at least. One in the plus column. She pulled them out, then returned to her search.

"Lemme find that Aspirin, I have a massive headache and these might be the fast-acting ones that have caffeine in them; it's better than nothing I guess."

There it was. She plucked the bottle from a corner of and held it up, squinting with one eye. No caffeine. Yeah, she'd expected that. In fact what the hell brand was this and why did she have....

One. Second. There.

She recognized that bottle.

You have got to be fucking kidding me...

Andrea poured a series of white tablets onto her palm. A tiny smile smarted to bloom. She brushed the pills carefully, sifted them, panned them for gold.

She recognized these, all right. Most of the pills were regular aspirin. Some were not.

Some of them were Ritalin.

Alex.

She couldn't help it. She laughed, and it felt good.

Alex. Younger brother Alex, not Alex fucking White. She had totally, 100% forgotten about that whole scenario well more like she'd pushed it out of her mind but what was this irony or karma or oh fuck, now Allen was staring at her, and what the hell was she going to say, she didn't want to get into the whole ridiculous story that had led to her having a secret stash of drugs that even she didn't know about.

"Sorry!" she said, managing to choke down the laughter a few seconds. "It's just that.. oh Christ I had totally forgotten that I had these and I guess Danya's fucking goons never checked it and..."

Great. Now she was laughing even harder. She needed to stop this before she went into total lunatic mode. She popped two of the Ritalin, dry-swallowing them. Oh yes.

Andrea closed her eyes She breathed in, trying to fill her lungs.

"It's uh, it's a long story. I'll tell it to you in a bit, OK?"

Yeah.

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

After Allen had gone off for a while, Andrea returned to her belongings. Her journal was still there. She pulled it out, grabbed a pen.

OK. Focus. She could do that now. No excuses. Figure it fucking out. It was a simple plan, wasn't it? A simple genius plan.

The life raft. Fix it; inflate it at the Fun Fair.

The generator. Either at the fair or the mine. Had to be one of them. Had to be.

She just needed to put everything together, and then she'd be golden.

The game would be hers again.

Andrea looked down at the journal. She tapped pen against paper. She doodled for a while.

It was a long time before any words came.

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

Some time later, she walked up to Ray Dawson. Ray-J Dawson himself, who a fucking lifetime ago had teased her in the mall parking lot after she'd made a deal. She'd bought some Vicodins off him. Sure would be nice to have those now.

She looked down at the papers she carried. Yeah, like Ray gave a shit. He'd spent most of the last few hours off by himself. Andrea didn't know if Ray had any desire to leave this place at all, let alone tromp around the whole island with her on a scavenger hunt. There wasn't exactly a deep streak of optimism running through this area. Andrea had tried to outline her genius plan; she'd tried to at least sell them on the possibility of it. because if nothing else there was still a chance (there had to be a chance, had to be, had to be--) of it working out. They had to go somewhere, so why not the Fun Fair. Ride the Ferris Wheel. Get some cotton candy. Look around for escape tools without alerting the Mod Squad somehow.

And then of course the announcement had blared over the speakers and declared the Southeast Woods a dangerzone. Which meant that any sojourn to the fair would involve going all the way around the mountain. Real fucking cute, Danya.

"Hey Ray."

Ray was standing above where he'd buried Annaliese Hansen. He'd loved her or something. Rosa Fiametta was also somewhere nearby, under the ground. Felicia had been her paramour. Andrea had come across a few other spots that looked like hastily-dug graves during over the last week or so. Maybe she should have been the island's resident mortician instead of the resident Liz Polanski wannabe.

Ray was still looking down at the grave, and she tried again.

"I, my dad was a funeral director. Don't know if you knew that or not. Raymer & Schenn. He'd uh… I have no idea what he'd actually say."

Well, so much for that dream. She'd never wanted it anyway. If her time on this island had convinced her of anything, it was that the whole fucking business of funerals and burials was pretty pointless on the whole, wasn't it?

No offense, dad. She actually thought her father had felt much the same at times. But of course, he wouldn't tell his customers that.

"But uh, I know that doing this shows that you really, well, cared about her. So.. now everyone'll know, no matter what happens, they'll know that. I think my dad would say that it'll always be a symbol of that. Hell of a lot better than I'll get or, well, most of us will."

Damn SOTF. Making her talk like this.

v6!
G058: Kaitlyn Greene aka Katy Buried - Horse Tranquilizer and Syringe
She Knew She'd Found Freedom - Questions - Fools - Barons - Opportunities - Sideshows - Dawns - Gulches

v5!
G038: Deanna Hull - Replica Freddy Glove - DECEASED
From Sea to Sky -Smoke--Sun--Tiki--Nine--Repeat--Talk--Now--Drift--Hunger--Valley--Fall--Rust--Paper--Heart--Sky-
B023: Jesse Jennings - Riz Action Figure - DECEASED
From Vision to Glory -Vision--Summon--Time--Plan--Length--Sleep--Cause-

v4!
B006: Ricky Fortino - Trowel - DECEASED
B022: Imraan Al-Hariq - Remington 870 - DECEASED
G036: Carly Jean Dooley - VASE D: - DECEASED
G077: Andrea Raymer - Gunpowder - ?????
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
[NOTE: This continues the temporal displacement from Andrea's previous post, and is considered to take place shortly before everyone leaves the area.]

ANDREA RAYMER PRESENTS: EVERY LIFE HAS A SOUNDTRACK

*show intro*

HELLO to everyone out there! And you folks are in for a great show, because it's another BEE-YOO-TI-FUL DAY here on Killer Murder Carnage Island!! Can we get some applause folks?

*canned applause*

Well ALL-RIGHTY THEN! How many days have we been trapped here now, Bob the Annoying Douchebag Voice?

Well I think that this is officially Day Number NINE, Steve Sackodogshit!

Nine BEE-YOO-TI-FUL days, Bob!

You've got it Steve!

Hey, this current crop of kids ought to consider themselves lucky! You remember last year, Bob? How many days did it rain in v3?

Well I think it was about four or five days of rain, Steve!

You're always on the ball, Bob! FOUR OR FIVE STRAIGHT DAYS, people! And this wasn't any kind of piddly dinky-doodle rain, no sir-eee, this was TORRENTIAL stuff! I tell you, those kids last year were made of sterner stuff than this motley crew is! I thought folks from Minnesota were hardier than this!

Not to mention the escape attempt, Steve!

That's a heck of a point there, Bob! Of course, the Word of God says those v3 kids never actually SUCCEEDED in their escape attempt last season, but hey, they gave it the old college try, didn't they?

That's right, Steve. Heck, they even found themselves a generator!

They sure did, Bob! And between us friends, if you ask me or heck, half the fanbase out there, I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts that some of those kids DID make it off! Why there was just no way that Adam Dodd or Neil Sinclair would go down without a fight, and never even have their death recorded for posterity, right?

Hold on a minute, Steve! While we're talking about Adam Dodd, it looks like we've got ourselves a caller!

Of course we've got a collar. Every student has a collar, Bob! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!

Oh, you kill me, Steve! Right now we've got Girl 77, the self-styled female Adam Dodd, Ms. Andrea Raymer on line one, calling into us LIVE from Killer Murder Carnage Island!

Alright, it's Andrea, folks, lets all give her a big hand!

*canned applause*

How's it going out there Andrea? Ha ha ha, don't worry about answering that. But I have to ask while I have you on the line, is there any truth to the rumor that you've failed miserably to live up to your self-proclamation as Adam Dodd, the chick version? Andrea?

Whoops, sorry Steve! Looks like Andrea's been disconnected. Turns out that we don't even exist and even if we did, we wouldn't allow LOSERS to call in!

Well Andrea, that's a shame! Well, wherever you are, just remember what your daddy said, and always look on the bright side of life! After all, it is a BEE-YOO-Ti-FUL out there, and I sure hope you can enjoy it with your ONE FRIGGIN' EYE! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA--


Ha ha ha.

Fucking hell. Forget what she'd said before. She missed the Springsteen lyrics. Bob Geldof. Hell, even MCR.

Andrea returned from her rendezvous with Ray at the gravesite, giving halfhearted hellos to Alex and Felicia and Isabel and feeling more like an outsider than ever. The group had managed to raid a few supplies from the store and surrounding areas, but they weren't exactly raring to go.

Still a chance. Still a chance.

She sat down next to Allen.

"So uh, if we're not taking off yet, got an hour or so to listen to me bitch?"

Thankfully, he did. Good for Allen.

She set her bag on her lap and pulled out the bottle of 'aspirin', idly rolling it in her hands.

"Like I said, it's a long story. "

Well, she had to tell it sometime. Or maybe she didn't.

Nah, she did.

"I told you a while back that my dad died when I was 15. He and uh, he and my mother, they divorced when I was 10 or so, just your average upper middle class white couple divorce shit. Anyway, even though me and my brother Alex lived with our mom after, I... always got along better with my dad I guess. And then he died.

"So fast-forward to present-day, and... this is degenerate of me I know but I'd started giving Alex some Ritalin on the side. Nothing serious, it was kid's stuff, you know? Prove how cool I am, corrupting my younger brother, yeah yeah. And I didn't know it at the time, but he'd been keeping his stash in an aspirin bottle."

She tossed the bottle in question over to Allen, not looking to see if he caught it or not.

"I dunno, maybe he thought he was being clever or something, the whole hiding in plain sight deal.

"OK moving on again, it's the morning after prom. I got back at who knows when, I was pretty fucked up. I hadn't even gone to prom, I'd gone out with Chad Klitou, I was out screwing Chad Klitou in my car during prom how fucked up is THAT, and then I stopped off at some party and I didn't get home until whenever and I went to bed and crashed."

Yeah. That was the background Now came the hard part.

"So I wake up next morning."

The really hard part. That part that fucking burned.

"I wake up the next morning, and it's like noon, and I'm just getting up and I'm still half asleep, and I turn around and this aspirin bottle fucking flies at me and hits me in the face. And uh, it was my mother.

"She was just sitting there on this chair she'd pulled up, I don't know how long she'd been waiting. And I don't even know what to say, I'm like in shock, so I stare at her, and she tells me that she found that in Alex's room. So she tells me to open it and I do and of course, there's the Ritalin. And then... see I'm trying to think of what I'm going to say when she... she's my fucking mother, she tells me that she doesn't give a damn about what I do to myself, that I can ruin my life if I want, but I'm not going to drag her son down with me.

"Her son. That's what she said.

"Then she gets up, and she just looks at me, and she says, just to punctuate it I guess she says... 'You're not my daughter, Andrea. You're his. Alex is my son; you're his daughter.' And then she left."

Huh, It was kind of funny. She wasn't crying. She wasn't even really raging. Still burned, though.

"She just fucking LEFT! And I thought about it, and I just realized that... that that's it, Allen, she never fucking cared, she NEVER gave a shit about me! Oh yeah, she gave me stuff, she gave me things, she told me to make my bed when I was a kid, but if I didn't? She didn't care. Alex was her son, she cared about him, and sure I was like, biologically hers too, but I was my dad's daughter, and he cared about me, and then he fucking died and is it any wonder that I ended up being kind of fucked up? Huh?"

It burned in her gut and her lungs and in her throat and she kept on.

"You want to know something, Allen? I don't think I had a single heartfelt conversation with her in my entire life. She never even taught me…. I mean thank god for the Internet and health class, or I wouldn't have even known what to do when I got my first period. Seriously, I know that's disgusting for guys to think about, but, yeah. There's one example for you.

And now I'm here, and I bet you, I bet you she is fucking loving it. There you go Andrea, that's what you get, now you're on Survival of the Fittest and you'll get exposed as what you are and your mother is free to raise her son however the hell she wants to without your nasty influence."

Andrea grabbed one of her newly-regained cigarettes from her pack and lit it, flicking the wheel of her lighter awkwardly several times before it caught flame. Yeah, why not prove her point to the world? That'll show them.

She didn't say anything for a few moments, then started again.

"Yeah, exposure. I guess that's what I always liked about watching the show. It was real, it was raw, it takes kids like you and me, and it just fucking strips us down until this is all that's left. And then what?"

Andrea breathed in the smoke and stared down at the embers dropping by her feet. She could feel the nicotine mixing with the Ritalin inside her, could sense those old familiar feelings. There were still table scraps though. That was 'then what'? Then you've got a few scraps and a partner you can't jerk around anymore.

"Look Allen... this whole escape thing I dragged you into, like I said I'm good at misleading guys like you. Nice guys and assholes both. I teamed up with you cause I knew you'd let me. It was never about you Allen, it was all about me, cause I'm hot shit. I'm smarter than Danya, smarter than Liz Polanski, whatever. This is my fucking game, that's my motto.

"And I'm going to keep that up, try to at least. I mean, what else can I do at this point? So I'm hoping that you and anyone else who wants will follow me on some new trip around the island, and I'm still writing it down instead of saying it and I keep telling myself that I can do this, but... I just had to tell you that so you can decide on your own what you'll do. I won't try to bullshit you anymore, shouldn't have done that in the first place. Sorry."

She looked back to Allen again and shrugged.

"So that's my whole story, Allen. Sorry to use you as my bitching board or whatever, just had to get that out before we all go off to our deaths. You want to tell me to fuck off, I will. Now's your chance, cause hopefully once we get away from here this Ritalin'll be kicking in more and I'll have something besides this self-pity to entertain you with."

Hopefully. She just had to keep pushing, cause her dead father told her so. Hard work, but hey, were there any other options?

Maybe lie down and let the rest of this crap play itself out. She could fall asleep and just bow out.

Not yet. Still some chance. The old stubborn Andrea.

Push a bit more.

[NOTE: Permission granted to outfoxd/Renard to GM Andrea moving out with the rest of the group to The Cavalry Arrives]
v6!
G058: Kaitlyn Greene aka Katy Buried - Horse Tranquilizer and Syringe
She Knew She'd Found Freedom - Questions - Fools - Barons - Opportunities - Sideshows - Dawns - Gulches

v5!
G038: Deanna Hull - Replica Freddy Glove - DECEASED
From Sea to Sky -Smoke--Sun--Tiki--Nine--Repeat--Talk--Now--Drift--Hunger--Valley--Fall--Rust--Paper--Heart--Sky-
B023: Jesse Jennings - Riz Action Figure - DECEASED
From Vision to Glory -Vision--Summon--Time--Plan--Length--Sleep--Cause-

v4!
B006: Ricky Fortino - Trowel - DECEASED
B022: Imraan Al-Hariq - Remington 870 - DECEASED
G036: Carly Jean Dooley - VASE D: - DECEASED
G077: Andrea Raymer - Gunpowder - ?????
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