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Topic Started: Aug 14 2016, 12:07 PM (1,146 Views)
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((B025 - Sandy Bricks: start))

Sandy Bricks was experiencing a hell within a hell.

When he’d come to in the AT’s sick and twisted presentation, he’d tried to realise what was going on, tried to keep calm and level headed, tried to make some sense and understanding of where he was. That had lasted right until they blew Mr. Graham’s brains out.

All the noises had suddenly turned into a high pitched static and everything around him had just gone blurry. He’d heard everything, but understood nothing, He’d kept trying to catch his breath, regain some semblance of lucidity, but ultimately he had blacked out before Tracen had even put his gas mask back on.

He’d come out of his unconscious state in a startled daze, covered from head to toe in a thick sweat, and it took him a while to even register where he was.

He was still hiding in the store room that he’d awoken in, curled up with his head pressed against his knees as the quiet pacing of rats moved around him.

His body was covered with a slick sweaty moisture that proved uncomfortable and distracting from his efforts to concentrate and focus, but it barely measured up to what was going on around him. It was dark in the room, and that was a blessing. Darkness was comforting: it helped him feel isolated, like he didn’t have to deal with other people whilst he tried to sort his shit out. Normally he’d use music to help cope as well, but of course the terrorists had stolen his iPod, so that wasn’t possible. Every so often, he thought he heard someone outside, but whether that was just his imagination or not couldn’t be said. He wanted them to stay outside for as long as he needed, though.

He may have missed the second half of Danya’s speech, but he knew what the rules of this game were. He tried so hard to avoid these sorts of topics, but in this day and age of social media, who could really stay away from the misery that happened in the world? He knew that the collar around his neck was a bomb, and he knew that the idea was to leave one person standing. It was like something out of a sick story, but this had been a reality for so long, and now he was right in the middle of it.

He pressed his forehead harder into his legs, pushing the brim of his hat up with the top of his knees as his arms curled around his shins.

He needed calm. He needed peace. He needed to not be here.
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((GMing approved)

Sandy’s head shot up when he heard Danny walk into the room. Shit.

Immediately he was on his feet, tensed against the wall and ready to flee. He couldn’t see the entrance from where he had been trying to calm down, so he had nothing to go on as far as who his company could’ve been. What he did know was that that really didn’t matter, because he still wasn’t at all ready to face any company period.

He picked up his bag and quietly moved around the shelves, making sure to keep one between him and where he remembered the entrance being. It didn’t take him long to get over there, and from behind the cover he could make out the silhouette with his head pressed against the door. Fortunately, his time in the darkness had given him an opportunity for his eyes to adjust, and when Danny turned around and started pacing down the room, Sandy recognised him pretty quickly.

He knew Danny from art class, but not much more beyond that. Danny’s art was ok, but not great, and his reputation around school did precede him. A social creature without a care in the world, one of many amongst Sandy’s peers.

That was not enough about Danny for Sandy to feel safe at all.

He could see the door was unobstructed from here, so it was possible that he could just slip out and find somewhere else to hide, but what would that solve? More people would show up, probably, and then he’d just have to keep moving. He had been here first; it should’ve been his place to hide. Danny should leave if he was told to.

Shit, he just wanted to be alone again.

He reached his hand into his bag, pulling out the bottle that he’d found when he was looking for his iPod. The rag stuffed in the neck mixed with volatile chemicals identified it as a Molotov cocktail, but Sandy didn’t know that. He knew it was heavy, and that it was better than having nothing. After all, this was a grand scheme where the terrorists wanted him dead, and his classmates were going to be the agents who did it.

The thought made him flinch.

Stepping out from behind the shelf, he managed to intercede himself between the door and Danny, though not intentionally. He gripped the bottle with one hand, and shot his guest an unwelcoming look.

“What do you want, Danny?”
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Sandy’s stern look faltered a bit when Danny screamed like a little girl, replaced with surprise. He hadn’t been expecting such a shrill response from someone with Danny’s look, but it was enough to distract him from his irritation, if only momentarily.

A brief but tense moment sat between them as Sandy waited for Danny’s response. He had not expected it to be a CD player to the face.

It was fortunate that Sandy had been staring straight at Danny; he may not have played any sports or anything like that, but even he could manage a clumsy dodge when someone threw something straight at him, the portable player smashing into the door behind him. He looked back at where it had hit, long enough for Danny to duck out of his sight.

“What the hell, Danny?!” Sandy yelled at the darkness, gripping the neck of the bottle in anger. He was just trying to calm down and be left alone and process the unreal situation that was going on, and Danny wasn’t even going to so much as give him a hello before he started throwing things at him?

He had no idea what to make of the situation, but he had enough problems without just letting Danny try to nail him with a blunt object then leave without a word. He stepped away from the door, looking for signs of his assailant as his jaw clenched in a tight vice.

“Get out here Danny, you prick!”
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Danny’s childish retorts and clumsy crashing into shelves would have been funny if it wasn’t so goddamn unwelcome. Sandy was getting closer to the trespasser, he could tell by the way his hair was standing on the back of his neck. It was a game of cat and mouse in a room full of rats, and when he caught Danny he’d really make him get out.

It was fortunate enough for him that Audrey intervened when she did.

Danny wasn’t the only one who could scream like a little girl when someone showed up out of nowhere. The third voice piercing through the silence took Sandy completely off guard, sending him tripping backwards into a shelf. It didn’t tip over, fortunately enough for him, but it still took his attention away from Danny for long enough.

“Where did you come from?!”

The new arrival was a stranger to him: he couldn’t place Audrey’s voice and he didn’t tend to pay much attention to students outside of his clubs or classes (and even then, most of the students there didn’t get that much more attention). Danny was a familiar enough face, and he wasn’t welcome, so what chance did this stranger have?

“Whatever; don’t tell me to calm down.” With the surprise now worn off, he went back to speaking in a short, terse tone. “I just want to be alone right now and think, alright? Why the hell can’t you and Danny respect that? Why’s Danny got to throw things at my head, and where do you get off telling me what to do?”
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Sandy could only stand there, looking at Audrey with stunned disbelief. It took him a moment, but he finally conceived the concise response to her whole peace-making spiel.

“I do not give a shit about any of that.”

Danny at least had the advantage of being in the same class as him, but he still couldn’t remember Audrey even a little, and here she was trying to peddle some bleeding heart idealism at him? Tell him that he wasn’t in danger, that she thought he was a nice guy, that him, her and Danny could team up and take on the whole world together?

“Why is this so hard to understand? I don’t want company, I don’t want to hang out with you or Danny or anyone else right now, and I don’t care if you think you’re going to hurt me or not.”

And why should he? Audrey was way smaller than him, and he knew that neither she nor Danny were well armed. Who was to say that he couldn’t take that bottle and smash their faces in with it if he had the mind to? Yeah, it was a blunt response, but they had long overstayed their welcomes and he did not care to think nice things towards people who just insisted on ignoring everything he was saying.

“Fuck your truce. Fuck you.”

He turned to head towards the door. He wanted them to leave, more than anything at all right now, but he didn’t have the energy to keep fighting for the room. His head was starting to buzz with anger and stress, and he knew a headache was coming on if he didn’t find somewhere else to calm down. All he wanted was some peace and quiet.

As his hand gripped the handle to the door, he heard Alvaro’s hacking fit from outside. “For fuck’s sake, what now?” he thought to himself, before opening the door and finding out.
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Sandy saw Alvaro looking like absolute hell when he opened the door. He knew Alvaro from some classes, but only as a familiar face. He’d obviously gotten into quite a beat down, though, given how roughed up he looked.

He still could not give any more of a shit about any of this.

“Nope.” He replied simply, pushing his way out the door and walking down the hall. More people, more problems.

((Sandy Bricks continued in Amoung these "hallowed" walls...))
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