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Blown off Course; Casting Summon Appropriately-Sized Naft (Summoning Failed: A Danger Zone appears instead!)
Topic Started: Jan 16 2014, 05:50 AM (1,029 Views)
VysePresident
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Long-winded, meticulous, & thoughtful. Mostly long-winded though.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Ian Williams continued from: Sleeper Cell))
((All GMing Approved))




The gentle pitter-patter of rain against the clubhouse windows was perhaps the single most maddening sound Ian could imagine.

It was a cruel irony indeed, that had him sitting in a creaky old chair in a long forgotten lounge room, rocking first too harshly, then not at all. The litany of guilt and recriminations that had followed his realization repeated itself again and again, fueling an agitation that was almost physically painful. He was half ready to leap out the door, to charge across the island and to heck with the rain, until he could find the one thing he needed to set his mistake right. But he'd already pushed too hard for his companion.

Bella sat across from him, looking worse than ever, and he watched her with concern. It was all his fault, for letting himself listen to her when she claimed to be doing better, not because he really believed, but because that made it alright when he suggested they push on, search around a bit before stopping at the hotel. They would more likely to find people that way, after all, and maybe, just maybe, he could find what he needed to salvage this whole mess.

Except, the rain had hit before they could do anything, forcing them to take shelter in this wretched place, where there was nobody but the dead lying outside. They'd taken the back door, rather than encounter the bodies directly, but there was still something incredibly disturbing about the thought. He shivered a little, and the creeping chill wasn't solely to blame.

But if guilt and concern were his chief thoughts at the moment, they at least reminded him there was something he could do to make things easier for Bella. He cleared his throat softly, the noise nearly drowned out by the wretched weather.

"Hey, umm, there's a blanket in my bag, if you want it. I took it from the apartment, but it's not too ratty."
Constructive criticism is always welcome! Feel free to send me a PM if you have any pointers or feedback you'd like to share!

Character #1: Boy #37 Ian Williams - Now with 55% less self-insert.
Designated Weapon: Polaroid Instant Camera With Film (Enough for 8 photographs)

Past - | 1 | 2 | (Current thread - Birds of a Feather)
Pregame - None
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | (Final Thread - Glass
)
Character #2: Boy #66 Chase Rodriguez - Adopted from Pippin.
Designated Weapon: Silver Pill Box Containing Three Cyanide Capsules

Past - None
Pregame - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | (Last seen in - Diversions)
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | (Final Thread - Drawing to an End)



(Relationships Planning Thread #Pi)
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[ *  *  *  * ]
((Mirabella Strong continued from Sleeper Cell))

Despite her best efforts, Bella’s smile had begun to falter during their trek.

It’d been difficult to begin with, with a plethora of emotions fighting to surface, and though she’d thought that moving for awhile would do some good, it’d only served to make things worse. Ian hadn’t commented much on it, but she knew he’d noticed - he wasn’t stupid, and with only each other for company there wasn’t anybody else to take his attention. It wasn’t just her smile that’d begun to falter; every step she took was one filled with apprehension and dread, the simple sound of a twig snapping sending jolts of fear through her system. By the time they’d detoured towards the clubhouse, she’d been holding everything together by a thread.

She sat huddled in the corner with her bags hugged tightly to her chest, attempting to regain some of the optimism she’d had when they’d left the coves. It’d only been half-true then, and now it’d be a full-bodied lie, but it made things easier. She tried telling herself that it’d only be a couple minutes more, that Ian’d soon turn his back and she’d be able to take her pills without fear of judgement or abandonment, but every second felt like it stretched for an hour. The rational part of her mind pointed out that Ian wouldn’t care, that he’d be glad even, but she ignored it once more. She’d tried to be rational, and it’d brought only the worse things. She had to trust her instincts now, and her instincts told her exactly what she needed to do.

Ian offered her a blanket he’d found back at the apartments, though she could scarcely hear him above the torrents of rain that surrounded them. She wasn’t completely drenched - their quick dash to the clubhouse preventing them from being exposed for too long, and her heavy sweater had absorbed most of the rain that she actually had been caught up in. She could feel a chill incoming regardless, and she wasn’t going to refuse extra warmth - there were a thousand things that could happen if she didn’t warm up quickly; all of them were bad, and any of them happen to her.

She nodded mechanically in response, but quickly realised how uneasy that might’ve made him. It was just a few minutes more until all of these fears of hers would wash away, and she could be bright and cheery and optimistic once more. She’d already let him worry about her much more than she should’ve, and while she knew she couldn’t erase that, she knew that she could make some progress into making him think everything was getting better.

“Thank you Ian,” she said, the timidity in her voice slowly dissipating with each word. “You’re such a sweetheart. I wish... I wish I’d gotten to know you better, before all of this.”

A smile quirked across her lips, and she let her body relax, slowly unfurling herself from the tight ball she’d curled herself into. Just a few minutes more, and everything’d be alright.
Version Seven:
Tristan O’Hara
Dorothea Rodriguez
Ariana Simpson


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VysePresident
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Long-winded, meticulous, & thoughtful. Mostly long-winded though.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Can't say you missed too much. I'm probably one of the most boring people there is to know." A small, mirthless chuckle, a sad little smile. Humor wasn't helping now, and Ian didn't know what to say.

Instead, he leaned over and pulled his bag towards him, started rooting through it. He didn't know if he was supposed to keep talking, but the silence had become oppressive, the echo of the rain cold and mocking.

"There's a lot of people I wish I'd gotten to know better. I only moved to Seattle, what, two years ago? Even my best friends seem kind of distant sometimes. I hear so many names, and so few of them mean anything more than a face, and I just..."

Deep breath. Relax.

He turned back to his bag, pulled the blanket out, started unfolding it, and only quick reflexes stopped the wretched homemade bombs from falling to the floor. He bit his lip, managed to keep from yelling irrationally at the bag only because he knew it was pointless. When he felt calm enough to control himself, he turned back to Bella and tossed the blanket over.

"Here you go."

More silence, more rain. A small sigh.

"So...tell me something about yourself. Just, whatever you want."
Constructive criticism is always welcome! Feel free to send me a PM if you have any pointers or feedback you'd like to share!

Character #1: Boy #37 Ian Williams - Now with 55% less self-insert.
Designated Weapon: Polaroid Instant Camera With Film (Enough for 8 photographs)

Past - | 1 | 2 | (Current thread - Birds of a Feather)
Pregame - None
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | (Final Thread - Glass
)
Character #2: Boy #66 Chase Rodriguez - Adopted from Pippin.
Designated Weapon: Silver Pill Box Containing Three Cyanide Capsules

Past - None
Pregame - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | (Last seen in - Diversions)
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | (Final Thread - Drawing to an End)



(Relationships Planning Thread #Pi)
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“I’m sure you’re not all that bad. Just because you’re not one of the eccentrics or the popular kids, doesn’t mean you’re boring.”

Bella felt herself tense as she spoke, the same uneasiness that’d accompanied the few words she’d offered back at the coves. But she had to keep speaking, had to keep choosing every word with care and caution. If she sat there without uttering a single word, then he’d know everything was wrong, and there was no way she could let that happen. Besides, it was just school and the like. Nothing personal. Just idle chit-chat was all.

“Sometimes I feel like that might be better. Like, I think about how many clubs Juhan was in, and how many friends he has...”

She trailed off and hugged herself closer as Ian rooted through his bags. That was too sad. She didn’t want to think about sad things if she could help it, even though most of her thoughts were laced with negativity. Not too long, though. Soon they’d be able to talk properly, and Bella wouldn’t feel herself tense with apprehension over simple questions.

Ian tossed the blanket towards her and she caught it in an an awkward tumble, accepting it with a grateful smile. She hugged it close, enwrapping herself within it. The new warmth was wonderful, but it did little to distract from her pills, no matter how hard she tried. Once she got her pills in her system she’d be able to calm down, her thoughts and emotions would regain some semblance of balance, and the forced smile she’d retained for awhile would become genuine. The others had assured her, told her that they’d stick together no matter what, but she couldn’t be sure. What if they were lying? What if they were just waiting for her to have a breakdown so they’d have a reason to abandon her? She knew it was nonsensical and illogical and horrible, but the thought had come into her mind and stuck fiercely, refusing to leave despite any attempts to quell it and her other anxieties.

Her eyes locked onto Ian as he zipped his bag back up, praying that he’d leave for just a minute. That’d be long enough, she knew. Just a minute and everything would be fine. But he talked, and she had to reply.

“I like swimming. Mama got me into it at an early age, like dancing and needlework. And then there’s reading and writing too, plus debate club. Academics too. I’ve always loved academics. Other than that... nothing too exciting. What about you?”

She smiled, and let herself relax, just a bit. Maybe everything wouldn’t be so bad. Just so long as they kept to things like this. Nothing personal.
Version Seven:
Tristan O’Hara
Dorothea Rodriguez
Ariana Simpson


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VysePresident
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Long-winded, meticulous, & thoughtful. Mostly long-winded though.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Me?"

He trailed off thoughtfully for a moment. It was strange how much work it took to think of things before the island, think beyond his own plight. There was never any time for pleasant memories, always something he needed to worry about, always a stinging sense of guilt, ever since back at the mansion, and even fiercer now. Time was all he had now, time and regrets, and there was nothing he could do about the latter.

"I've always liked reading too. There's something about sitting in an armchair with a good book that's hard to beat. There's fantasy when I wanted to have fun, and philosophy when I wanted to think. Tolkien was the best."

He rocked gently in his chair, the quiet creaking playing counterpart to the weather.

"I'm also kind of competitive, I guess. I liked playing against my siblings when we did stuff, and some of my friends; never really mattered too much what exactly we did, as long as we had fun. There's something about pitting my wits and reflexes against someone that's just...I'm focused, thoughts are clear, and it's amazing. I'm not really sure how to explain it."

"So, my turn. You like to write? What about?"
Constructive criticism is always welcome! Feel free to send me a PM if you have any pointers or feedback you'd like to share!

Character #1: Boy #37 Ian Williams - Now with 55% less self-insert.
Designated Weapon: Polaroid Instant Camera With Film (Enough for 8 photographs)

Past - | 1 | 2 | (Current thread - Birds of a Feather)
Pregame - None
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | (Final Thread - Glass
)
Character #2: Boy #66 Chase Rodriguez - Adopted from Pippin.
Designated Weapon: Silver Pill Box Containing Three Cyanide Capsules

Past - None
Pregame - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | (Last seen in - Diversions)
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | (Final Thread - Drawing to an End)



(Relationships Planning Thread #Pi)
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“Tolkien, huh? My dad loved him. Lord of the Rings had pride of place in our library back home. He used to read it to me all the time when I was little.”

She shifted herself into a more comfortable position, resting her face in her hands. Speaking of when she was little had sent a burst of nostalgia through her mind; for a minute, she could imagine being back home and a dozen years younger, snuggled tightly under her sheets with a mug of sweet hot chocolate and the rain drumming against the roof, her father’s treacly voice circling the room as he read from the tome in his hands. What she wouldn’t to be in the position she’d been in as a child, free from worries and fear.

The blanket slipped slightly from her arm and she tugged it back into place, nestling herself into a tight cocoon. She almost forgot about her pills, almost let her anxieties ebb away as Ian spoke. Almost. It was nice, talking to him. She hadn’t had just a normal chat in so long. But the second it hit anything close to home, she didn’t know what she’d do. Hopefully it wouldn’t. She wouldn’t let herself get closer to him, wouldn’t risk getting too attached. After what’d happened with everybody else, she didn’t want to risk it. Maybe she’d feel differently when she had her pills inside her, but she couldn’t be sure. She couldn’t be sure of anything, really.

Ian spoke a little of his competitive nature, and she nodded as she replied. “I guess I understand that. I’ve never been too competitive, really; I never had any siblings or the like to argue with. I always wanted an older brother, though.”

Wow, that was getting personal. Thankfully Ian picked up on something else she’d said, asking her about her writing, and she decided to leap upon it. “I usually wrote a bit of fantasy, although I really liked science-fiction too.” She smiled, and met his eyes. “None of it was really all that good, though.”
Version Seven:
Tristan O’Hara
Dorothea Rodriguez
Ariana Simpson


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VysePresident
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Long-winded, meticulous, & thoughtful. Mostly long-winded though.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Heh, I doubt that." A small grin played on Ian lips, as he leaned forward in his chair.

"What I mean to say is, don't be too hard on yourself. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a writer too, then an artist, and so many other things besides. Problem was, no matter how hard I tried, I was always disappointed, because I had this idea that it needed to be a masterpiece. Don't waste the time. Just have fun, and keep working on it."

He chuckled a little, resting back again. The worn old chair felt like the most comfortable thing in the world, right now.

"Guess I never really learned though. I've gotten more patient, and I don't give up as easily, but I still have to get things just perfect before I'm satisfied. Heh, my idea of a game is most people's idea of an obsession."

He watched Bella with a small, almost affectionate smile as she snuggled into the covers, looking so content in her little cocoon. Poor kid had it rough. She'd tried so hard to play strong, and he just wished there was more he could do to help.

His smile faded a little, grew a little sadder and a little guilty as remembered just why it was she'd pushed herself. She still didn't even know what had happened, didn't have a clue how much he'd screwed things up, because he couldn't tell her. It didn't seem right, but there was no way around it, not with the terrorists watching and listening.

More silence. He noted vaguely that the rain was still there, but quieter, calming down.

Surely they didn't have to go right away, did they? Bella was tired anyway, and the conversation had become a lifeline he was reluctant to let go a moment sooner than he had to.

"So...what about back home?" he asked, desperate to shift his thoughts to more comfortable ground. "Any good memories at school you'd be okay with sharing? Umm, nothing too personal, I mean."
Constructive criticism is always welcome! Feel free to send me a PM if you have any pointers or feedback you'd like to share!

Character #1: Boy #37 Ian Williams - Now with 55% less self-insert.
Designated Weapon: Polaroid Instant Camera With Film (Enough for 8 photographs)

Past - | 1 | 2 | (Current thread - Birds of a Feather)
Pregame - None
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | (Final Thread - Glass
)
Character #2: Boy #66 Chase Rodriguez - Adopted from Pippin.
Designated Weapon: Silver Pill Box Containing Three Cyanide Capsules

Past - None
Pregame - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | (Last seen in - Diversions)
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | (Final Thread - Drawing to an End)



(Relationships Planning Thread #Pi)
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Ian told her not to be so hard on herself, something she’d heard countless times before. She wished it was easy, that she could simply not overanalyse every aspect of her life, or jump at her own shadow, or doubt every infinitesimal action she took, or play down any success or confidence she might had. Her Garrett and her medicine had helped with that so much, but she had neither of them with her now, neither of them to stop her anxieties - at least for a little while. Just a few minutes more and she wouldn’t have to worry about worrying anymore.

She chose not to pick up on that, even though she could relate so much to what Ian had said. She remembered all-nighters spent redoing assignments over and over, studying beyond the point of exhaustion, holding her fears and doubts buried deep down until one night they’d just exploded. No, she didn’t want to think about that, and she most certainly didn’t want to vocalise it.

“I’m so sorry you’ve felt that way. I could say the same to you - you’ve helped me so much, Ian, I don’t think I could possibly thank you enough. So don’t you be too hard on yourself either, okay?”

She would’ve given him a hug or a comforting touch on the shoulder, but her hands were trembling slightly beneath her blanket, and she didn’t want to risk alerting him to there being anything wrong. She was sacrificing comforting him over her own security, and she hated herself for it, hated her anxieties preventing her from helping a friend.

Ian brought the subject back around to school, to memories she had and things she’d miss. She missed everything, truthfully. Everything from the Seattle skyline to the rose garden her mother maintained to the taste of her father’s cooking to the touch of Garrett’s lips against her own. He’d said “nothing personal”, and she’d been relieved. All of that was stuff were dear to her, but likely to nobody else. No, she needed something relatable, something she did really miss but that Ian might miss too. That way they could avoid hitting something close to home, and she’d be less uneasy for a few minutes more.

“Socialising, mainly. Hanging with friends, getting a smoothie or watching movies or studying together. It was one of my favourite things, and it’s something I’ll never get to do again. There’s Naomi and Venice, they’re gone now, and I never had the chance to say goodbye.

“And everybody they haven’t listed yet - the girls on the swim team, Megan, or Rachael, or Garrett... Garrett especially - I’ll never just be able to ‘hang out’ with them again, if we get out.”

She could feel her throat tighten as she listed off her friends and her Garrett, and shifted around within her cocoon, suddenly uncomfortable in the position she’d found so relaxing just a minute before.

“That’s sad, isn’t it? Sorry. W-what about you? Anything you’ll miss?”
Version Seven:
Tristan O’Hara
Dorothea Rodriguez
Ariana Simpson


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VysePresident
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Long-winded, meticulous, & thoughtful. Mostly long-winded though.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"...I'm sorry."

What else was there to say? They'd both lost friends, and there was nothing that could be done about that. Ian sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"I like to think about home sometimes too. Yeah, it's a little sad, but it's sad because it's a memory worth holding onto. I miss Mom, Dad, and all my siblings, because if I didn't, there'd just be the island, and that's...not much of a life."

Funny how vividly they all came to mind now. He could almost see his Mom working in her little garden, so happy now that she only had to work part time, and could do things like this again. There'd be his littlest brother, Joseph, running around and bouncing off walls that weren't even there, while Aaron would be off doing his own thing quietly out of the way, and Nicole would be the walking bomb and best friend she'd been for much of his life. And all the while, his Dad would be sitting in his favorite armchair reading a book, or spending time with them, when he was off, laughing in his teasing way.

He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed them.

They had to make this work. Had to.

Soon enough. This was getting a little too somber and thoughtful for comfort right now. His thoughts turned back to what Bella had said moments ago, and caught on a name that was familiar.

"Oh, you're friends with Garrett too? Oh yeah, that's right, you went to prom together, didn't you? Heh, I've lost more games of chess against him over a debate than I can shake a stick at, whatever that means. Like I said though, never stop trying. At least I could hold my own on philosophy, mostly."

Stop. Take a breath. Seriously, why was he so wordy all of a sudden?

"How'd you two get to know each other? If you don't mind me asking?"
Constructive criticism is always welcome! Feel free to send me a PM if you have any pointers or feedback you'd like to share!

Character #1: Boy #37 Ian Williams - Now with 55% less self-insert.
Designated Weapon: Polaroid Instant Camera With Film (Enough for 8 photographs)

Past - | 1 | 2 | (Current thread - Birds of a Feather)
Pregame - None
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | (Final Thread - Glass
)
Character #2: Boy #66 Chase Rodriguez - Adopted from Pippin.
Designated Weapon: Silver Pill Box Containing Three Cyanide Capsules

Past - None
Pregame - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | (Last seen in - Diversions)
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | (Final Thread - Drawing to an End)



(Relationships Planning Thread #Pi)
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Ian mentioned Garrett, asked how they knew each other. Bella felt compelled to respond, as much as she didn’t want to. Garrett had broken beneath the surface she’d retained for so long, and that was something far too personal for her. But not discussing him would seem rude, and she didn’t want Ian to think that about her either. So she made a snap decision, and she didn’t know whether it was the right or the wrong one.

“Garrett... we just started talking was all. We became close, and...”

She couldn’t talk about him anymore, didn’t want to expose Ian to her dependence on him and how much she missed him. Garrett had helped her so much, and he deserved acknowledgment for it, but not now. Now talking about him would inevitably lead to discussing her fears and anxieties in even more depth than she already had, and she couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk further fracturing the fragile veneer she’d maintained for so long.

“I’d rather not talk about it. Too... too many memories, you know? I hope you understand.”

A small frown encroached on her features as she trailed off, and she let it linger for awhile, nestling deeper into her cocoon. Just a few minutes more, she told herself. Just a few minutes more.
Version Seven:
Tristan O’Hara
Dorothea Rodriguez
Ariana Simpson


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VysePresident
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Long-winded, meticulous, & thoughtful. Mostly long-winded though.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"No, no. My fault, sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

Ian had realized his misstep the instant he saw her face, realized he'd pushed too far. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should have taken the hint the first time, should have stopped asking. Instead, he'd pressed on, because he'd been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to pick up on things like the fact that maybe, just maybe she was still just trying to cope, and....

Stupid.

He started to apologize again, and she nodded vaguely, but it didn't really mean anything because she kept her mask on. Whatever understanding they'd found in the moments before had passed, and there was no comfort to be gained in conversation anymore.

More silence. No rain.

Something about that silence seemed to make the room larger, shadows longer, and thoughts were agitated once more. His chair was creaking loudly now, and he had to stop himself from rocking, pulled himself up despite protesting muscles. Because sitting here was even worse now, somehow, felt like he was even more alone. He mumbled something about taking a minute to look around, and she just nodded slightly, so he walked off.

And that was why he found himself pacing in the old tennis room by himself. Making a hundred pointless laps back and forth, and thinking of home.
Constructive criticism is always welcome! Feel free to send me a PM if you have any pointers or feedback you'd like to share!

Character #1: Boy #37 Ian Williams - Now with 55% less self-insert.
Designated Weapon: Polaroid Instant Camera With Film (Enough for 8 photographs)

Past - | 1 | 2 | (Current thread - Birds of a Feather)
Pregame - None
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | (Final Thread - Glass
)
Character #2: Boy #66 Chase Rodriguez - Adopted from Pippin.
Designated Weapon: Silver Pill Box Containing Three Cyanide Capsules

Past - None
Pregame - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | (Last seen in - Diversions)
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | (Final Thread - Drawing to an End)



(Relationships Planning Thread #Pi)
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Ian mumbled that he was going to look around, and Bella nodded hurriedly, almost jumping to her feet as he spoke. She could hardly blame him for wanting some time away from her - she was hardly the most engaging conversation parter in the world. None of that mattered now, though; it was time. The second he’d left the building, Bella dropped her bags with a thud and set about sifting through her belongings, hurriedly unscrewing the lid of her medication as soon as it was in her hand. Just one dosage. One dosage, and she’d be fine. That was all she needed. Then she could actually have a proper conversation with Ian, she wouldn’t be so emotionally volatile, she wouldn’t have to risk hurting the others just as much as she feared them hurting her. Once those pills were down her throat, those bad thoughts would go away and everything would be fine.

She dropped the lid to the ground and inverted the bottle, ready to let the little green-and-yellow pills upon which her sanity relied drop into her hand.

Nothing happened.

She shook a few more times, certain that they must’ve gotten stuck somehow, her mind grasping at fleeting reasons why they hadn’t appeared instantly.

Empty.

No.

That was impossible.

In that instant, everything was gone. All the camaraderie, the sense of security she'd lulled herself into whilst talking with Ian... It all disappeared the second she realised the bottle was empty.

There was nothing

She dropped the empty bottle, letting it fall to the ground with a hollow clatter, cracking as it landed upon the lacquered floorboards.

Bella did the only thing she could think of.

She did the only thing there was left to do.

She ran.

((Mirabella Strong continued in Young and Beautiful))
Version Seven:
Tristan O’Hara
Dorothea Rodriguez
Ariana Simpson


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VysePresident
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Long-winded, meticulous, & thoughtful. Mostly long-winded though.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
By the time Ian came back, Bella was long gone.

He didn't want to accept it at first, not when he realized her bag was missing, not even when he saw the back door hanging ajar, highlighted by the few rays of sun peeking through the clouds, as if to mock him. It wasn't until he heard the lonely echo of his own voice, as he stood amidst the scattered raindrops calling her name to no reply, with neither sight nor sign, that he finally let the truth sink in.

It was the second time that he'd been abandoned by someone he'd called a friend, and this time, he didn't even know why.

Things sort of blurred after that. He vaguely remembered walking back into the house, wiping his feet ever so carefully on a mat that didn't even exist, as the first few traces of emotion started leaking through the numbness.

So tired.

The silence was deafening when he returned to the lounge room, the shadows immense and the air dead. He didn't know why that seemed to matter so much, because really everything was just the same, but it did. Perhaps that was why the bottle near Bella's chair caught his attention, because it was an actual break in order, something that really was out of place.

And perhaps that was for the best, because even if he still didn't have answers, it at least gave him some hints at the puzzle. Fluoxentine, the label said; an anti-depressant, if he could trust half forgotten memories of his parents discussing pharmacy. He weighed the empty bottle carefully a moment, as his eyes flicked across the room to the wall, and he gave a snort that might have almost been mistaken for a laugh.

The glass made a dull crunching sound as it hit the floor several feet short of intended target, the energy behind the throw dying even as the bottle was set in motion.

With that, he collapsed into the chair he'd occupied before, envying that bottle as the energy that drove him died as well. Because he would bend and yet couldn't quite break, because he'd spent so much time hiding in the comfort of his own mind that, now that it was a trap and not a sanctuary, there was nowhere else to turn but his own bitter thoughts. Because he was just a scared and lonely kid, and so very, very tired.

So think he did, as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Sometimes it was Steven's rebuke, twisting the knife still further, reminding him in that trite but painfully on target way that he'd failed to really make a difference. Other times, there was a memory of a quiet talk with his Dad as he explained to him the purpose of learning self-defense, and in the process, gave Ian a glimpse into the potential horrors of human nature. It was something he couldn't fully understand, nor had he ever wished to, and yet now here he was, trapped and trying to cope as best he could with something even worse than gangs and a rough neighborhood.

And still other times, he just thought of home, of books, of games, of family, of a future that had seemed so promising just a week ago, and cried inside.




It was sometime late in the night when the last tattered remnants of his hopes died.

He awoke with a start when memory sparked a terrible thought, almost jumping to his feet despite muscles that groaned even louder than the chair, and hurried to a window, looking in what he thought was the direction of the town.

Nothing.

There should have been a light, a raging fire to burn down half the town as a signal from the escape group. It should have been there, telling them the plan had worked, should have been the first of many efforts to attract attention from off-island.

Nothing.

He slunk back into his armchair and sat unmoving for a very long time. Because this was defeat. Perhaps he could have eventually worked up the will to keep on going forever, as long as there were still windmills to charge, as long as he could cling to some small shred of hope. Because if the plan had always been just shy of hopeless, the idea of shooting the collars off almost absurd, it had at least seemed better than nothing, better than just accepting death.

He'd already forgotten the gun in panic following the dangerzone, but even that had been an obstacle that could be overcome. Now...now all he knew was that he'd have to face Juhan and Takeshi tomorrow, and explain to them what had happened, and he was scared.

It was a long, cold, and bitter night. He took what troubled sleep he could, and left early in the morning, long before the place was declared a dangerzone.



((Ian Williams continued in: Mata Leao))
Constructive criticism is always welcome! Feel free to send me a PM if you have any pointers or feedback you'd like to share!

Character #1: Boy #37 Ian Williams - Now with 55% less self-insert.
Designated Weapon: Polaroid Instant Camera With Film (Enough for 8 photographs)

Past - | 1 | 2 | (Current thread - Birds of a Feather)
Pregame - None
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | (Final Thread - Glass
)
Character #2: Boy #66 Chase Rodriguez - Adopted from Pippin.
Designated Weapon: Silver Pill Box Containing Three Cyanide Capsules

Past - None
Pregame - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | (Last seen in - Diversions)
Island - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | (Final Thread - Drawing to an End)



(Relationships Planning Thread #Pi)
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