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Aaaaaand he's gone.; Open, in case it needed to be specified.
Topic Started: Aug 24 2016, 02:17 PM (1,126 Views)
MK Kilmarnock
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((Jerry Fury continued from Rare Footage of Jerry Worried))

The jog over from the radio tower was a short one. That was a good thing; Jerry didn't mind running, but these stupid day packs were a little cumbersome. His neck also felt much warmer than usual, a few beads of sweat dripping down from the back of his head and getting caught between the skin and the metal band of the collar. Things were starting to get a little itchy. Suddenly, a bomb going off around his throat seemed comparatively nice.

"I've got a complaint to make about these things," Jerry said while hoping a nearby camera could hear. He tapped on the collar, swallowing some spit collected in his mouth. "Can't you, like... install climate control in them or whatever? I've seen those at the mall, and I think it'd be pretty nice to do for us. Since you're killing us and all." Hoo boy, that got dark quickly. Better think of something to get your mind off the imminent death of you and all but one of your classmates.

Jerry had found himself standing before a humble cabin of some sort. Pulling the switchblade out of his pocket and tucking it closely in his balled fist, he walked an entire circle around the house, his eyes flickering from window to window to watch for guns. He figured that if anybody started shooting, he could probably just dart back and forth all serpentine-like and dodge the shit out of those bullets... that's how it worked in FPS games, right? At the very least, he'd be throwing their aim all outta wack.

The small area behind the cabin opened into some kind of bay. Not a crazy distance away, there was a metal truss bridge of some sort running across to the other side and, as Jerry's eyes followed along the shore, he could trace most of the shoreline around the bay. The island they were on seemed to closely resemble that one island from Battlefield 2... Jerry couldn't place the name.

Somewhere on the other side of the bay, a bell rang out. Jerry simultaneously got Pantera and Metallica songs stuck in his head as he listened to it ring out, then turned back to the cabin. Well, if anybody had been in there and had been alert, he'd have been shot in the head like... six times already. Failing that, he walked back around to the front door, checked the handle to make sure that he could indeed enter, and stepped inside.
Edited by MK Kilmarnock, Aug 28 2016, 01:06 AM.
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((Nadia Riva continued from The Strange Case of Nadia))

Nadia sighed as she got off the ground, brushing any grass or dirt that was on her skirt. She opened her bag and placed her water bottle back into her bag. She had taken a few minutes to relax after she had made her way across the bridge. She didn't see anyone on the bridge, but once she started walking across it, she realized how open she was. Anyone could suddenly appear before or behind her, and the only way to avoid them would be to go over the edge. That was the less pleasing option, so she opted to simply run as quickly as she could across the bridge.

Once she was across, she needed to take a moment to catch her breath and drink some water. She didn't want to stay in the open, so she got off the path and disappeared into the wilderness. She found a quiet looking area and took a moment to rest. It also gave her time to get her surroundings in order. Looking at the map, she was slightly abhorred to realize she woke up in an asylum. In fact, the notion that the whole island was based around an asylum was discomforting. This place was probably already haunted, and now it was going to be the hosting site for a large scale mass murder.

Nadia didn't want to think about that. It was bad enough she was screwed on the weapon front and was likely to die in the next few days, but she wanted to think about the familiar ghosts and monsters instead of the figurative ones. Those somehow now made up a good chunk of the students at Cochise High School, so she needed to plan accordingly.

For now, she needed to find a better place to hide or search for supplies. She wasn't expecting to find much, but there had to be something more useful in a fight than walkie talkies. She figured there would be a lot of people heading to the buildings, but maybe if she started with one slightly out of the way, she'd be less likely to find anyone dangerous. With that, she began to walk along the coastline.

She soon found herself approaching the hunting cabin, right when she heard the sound of a bell ringing. While she briefly pondered if church was in session, she pushed it out of her mind and decided to keep going towards the cabin. Nadia was now facing the back of the cabin. She spied the backdoor over to the side. She moaned to herself. This was either going to be really dumb and get her killed, or possibly be something that could benefit her. Nadia wasn't sure if anyone was inside, but she could at least check it out.

Nadia reached into her bag and pulled out one of the walkie talkies. She didn't have anything lethal on hand, but someone like this could probably be painful if applied with enough force. At the very least, it would tell people that she didn't have much, so they might not hurt her.

She walked over to the door and crouched down onto one knee. She put her free hand on the doorknob and the other on the door itself. She slowly turned the knob, then pushed the door open as quietly as she could. Once it was open wide enough, she was ready to move inside.
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Jerry stared at the stairs just a little bit longer than he was comfortable admitting. Something about the way they went up and out of sight just bothered him... a totally irrational case of the jibblies. "These jibblies... I do not like them..." Jerry mumbled to himself in a thick, fake Russian accent. He could honestly go for a game of Poker Night at the Inventory right about now. Not that second one, though. Second one just wasn't worth it without Strong Bad. That's guy's personality was total gold.

Turning his attention away from the stairs, Jerry took in his surroundings. The cabin seemed... well, 'lived-in' was the first thing that came to mind, but it was clear nobody had lived here in a while. That being said, he wouldn't necessarily have any problems making a place like this his pad. The tiger rug, in particular, added this pretty neat touch. Now, if only he had a rifle; he could feel like he was on safari, hunting the most dangerous game.

Jerry was pretty sure that's what that one episode of Gilligan's Island was called.

He couldn't help but notice the distinct lack of a deer head on the wall. The rest of this place reeked of 'hunting lodge' decor to the point where he wouldn't be surprised if he found some camo-shit just laying around (obviously the high point of any fashion). Yet, not a single trophy lined the walls. A shame, really, because that would have just added the Evil Dead touch that the place oh-so-desperately needed.

Speaking of the Evil Dead, Jerry had this niggling feeling in his spine that something was looking at him. Wasn't the rug, that didn't have eyes. Wasn't the deer trophy on the wall, there wasn't a deer trophy on the fucking wall (seriously, was this person the worst hunter ever? Just have a thing against tigers?). Maybe it was those stairs... he hadn't checked upstairs, yet. There was a very real possibility that somebody was lurking at the bottom of the stairs. Watching... waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Jerry swallowed, his head swiveling like Mr. Goddamn Owl's before taking a lick out of a tootsie pop, and his eyes set on that staircase like glue. His hand fumbled through his pocket, trying to get a good grip in the switchblade. Y'know, just in case.
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Nadia slowly walked into the cabin, making sure to quietly close the door. The last thing she needed was to be as stealthy as the Wet Bandits, so if that meant taking a little extra time to close a door, she'd take it. There didn't seem to be anyone in the immediate area, so she could quietly move in.

Nadia tried to slowly walk further into the cabin. Her hand tightened around the walkie talkie. It still didn't feel that comforting as a survival tool. She knew she was immediately outclassed if anyone with so much as a butter knife approached her. If it came to it, she might have to physically fight someone. She was heavier than most girls, and she could try to remember some of the moves Rod used in his wrestling matches, if it was possible to remember how to do them.

As she slowly walked down the hall, she could slightly see what looked like a large open space. If she had to guess, this was where it was likely she'd run into some of her classmates. She couldn't hear anything at the moment, so she wasn't sure if anyone was actually there. Either way, it was important to be quiet.

At least, it would be, if the floorboard she stepped on wasn't so worn that it made a loud creaking sound. Nadia froze in place and shut her eyes as hard as she could.

"Motherfucker..." she quietly muttered to herself.
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((Brendan Harte continued from No Way To Survive))

Brendan was uneasy as he approached the cabin and he just hesitated outside of the entrance. He didn't know why he didn't want to waltzes right in. He just had a bad gut feeling. And he actually thought it would be a good idea for him to go here. He really needed to make up his mind. He needed to stop being so scared. He just needed to open the door and....

There might be someone waiting in there with a gun or a knife or something else that is better than your silly little can, Brendan. You can always just run away again, you know.

No, no. Brendan tried to block out the negative thoughts. He needed to be strong. His hand reached out to the door. He then paused. Should he at least use his can of cat food as a distraction? If someone was prepared to attack.... Maybe not out of the desperation of killing to get back home. But well.... To protect themselves out of fear? He hoped that he wasn't thinking in a naive way. He was now just pondering.

He decided against getting the can out. He knew that it might not be a smart move for him to do. He stared at the door. And he wondered if he could find anything in there. Maybe a better weapon. Which he did need. He took a step back from the door as he thought that he heard something and he just stayed there. Was it just his imagination going a bit crazy? He had no idea.

He needed to stop being like this. He just needed to go in and seeing if anyone was in there. It might have just been an animal anyway. He would feel even more foolish if he got terrified by an animal. He moved back towards the door and his hand gripped onto the handle.

He slowly pushed it open and he let out a shaky breath that he had been holding in. Then he peek inside of the cabin. He wasn't going to go inside yet. He was trying to be cautious.
Edited by Primrosette, Jan 19 2017, 08:52 AM.
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Jerry had an instant reaction to the creaking of the floorboards.

Several options were available to him. He had seen the environment; he knew the environment. He WAS the environment, and it was him. By mastering and successfully melding several forms of martial arts, Jerry Fury had all the tools necessary to make his move towards the threat and neutralize it. One possible route to take, he would have imagined, involved vaulting over the table using what parkour training he had amassed. From there, it would be a simple matter of balancing on his arm while setting his feet, pushing off with a fancy-yet-effective kick. Who said flashy was impractical? Losers, that's who.

And after this true display of skill, Jerry would be free to go to town on the intruder with a knife. Counterbalance the switchblade, quick slash, retract. Rinse and repeat, and the job was done. Any counterattack his enemy had should be stymied almost immediately but in a worst-case scenario, there's nothing that can't be fixed by hold #767: Armbar.

Of course, none of that actually happened.

Jerry jumped in shock, screaming in a wonderful falsetto. He stumbled from the landing, his heart kicked into full gear and pumping as much blood as it could pump so its host had what it needed to run like the dickens or fight like a lion, whichever he was about to choose. A pain shot up through his heel -- his ankle that he had twisted maybe a month and a half ago felt like pins had been inserted into it, and only through sheer luck had it not been twisted again. He had no time to be thankful for this little present, as it was still painfully clear somebody was in the cabin with him. His back swung to the stairs and Jerry planted his good foot, brandishing the knife and flipping the switch.

"WHOSSAT! WHO'DERE!" Jerry screamed in rushed fashion.

His brow snapped to the open door... the door he had just come in, and he was positive he shut it behind him. Somebody was peeking from behind the door. But that wasn't the direction the noise came from, was it? No, the noise was coming from INSIDE the house!

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!?" Jerry screamed again, his voice breaking harder than Frankie Munez at his sixteenth birthday party.
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Nadia kept her eyes closed as she heard someone in the other room shout loudly and wildly. If she was about to be done in due to aged wood, she was never going to hear the end of it once Rod or her sister got to Heaven. She opened her eyes and held up the walkie talkie, keeping it close to her head and her other had in a fist in front of her chest. She had no idea if the shouter was going to run into the hall and attack her, but she needed to at least be ready.

The boy, his voice cracking like a frozen lake with a herd of buffaloes running across it, asked to know who the hell she was. Nadia let out a moan, then replied.

"Hey, chill out!" she said. "I'm just passing through!"

Nadia wasn't aware that the boy's attention was drawn towards another person. If she had known he was speaking to another person, she would have kept her mouth shut and tried to sneak by. But now she made it quite clear she was in the cabin, and that she had made herself known to those inside.
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Brendan let out a startled gasp as he heard the screaming and he jumped back a little. His heart was beating like crazy and he needed a few seconds to calm himself down. He didn't suspect that someone would yell the instant he opened the door. Well, at least he wasn't getting shot or stabbed right away. It was a dark thought. But being screamed at sounded much better. He took a few breaths and he felt himself relaxing a little. How should he approach this? Maybe he could just say who he was. He needed to see who it was as well. He didn't get a chance to see who it was yet.

Brendan pushed the door open more fully this time and he was raised his hands up. To show that he didn't want to cause any harm. He wasn't going to be the one to randomly attack someone out of nowhere. He stared at the boy and he actually recognized him. Kind of. Jerry Fury. They weren't friends really. But Brendan was fine with that. Until he saw the knife and started to panic on the inside. He wasn't going to run away this time.

"H-Hey, I'm not going to um.... hurt you. Okay? It's Brendan. Brendan Harte." His words were coming out in a nervous, shaky tone and he kept his eyes fixed on Jerry and the knife. "I didn't-"

Brendan was suddenly shut up by another voice. A girl's voice. Someone else was in here? Brendan felt himself tense up. But he didn't move from where he was in the doorway. He didn't want Jerry to suddenly hurt him. Brendan waited for Jerry to say something. It was all that he could do at the moment. Brendan still needed a better weapon but he was going to wait until this situation was defused. Without the need of violence.
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It was all practically simultaneous: Brendan entering through the front door, the other presence speaking up (turns out she was a girl), Jerry screaming, Brendan entering further, a bunch of 'chill outs' and 'I'm not gonna hurt you.'

Well, no shit. Nobody was hurting Jerry Fury. Not Jerry motherfuckin' Fury, not while HE had the knife and everybody else had... who knows, cardboard cutouts of Dame Maggie Smith or Chinese yo-yos or something totally lame like that. He was in control! He had the power, damn it!

Buuuuuut just to be on the safe side, let's go ahead and back up the first couple stairs to eliminate the angle that somebody could attack from. As long as there wasn't anybody upstairs, he'd be fine. If there WAS still somebody upstairs... Jerry shivered just thinking about that, suddenly wishing knives would grow out of his shoulder blades.

"Coooool, cool, just some people. Right. Brendan and good ol' what's-her-face," Jerry rambled, not having gotten visual of the other girl yet. Turns out when you go to school with a bunch of different teenage kids, they're all REALLY hard to identify on voice alone. Certain people like Trav or Noodle, he'd pick them out right away. 'Specially Trav, that cocky bastard. Brendan Harte, on the other hand, didn't have the most distinctive voice in the world. Cochise wasn't full of Frank Sinatras and Louis Armstrongs and Carol Channings.

"I'm not nervous! You're nervous!" Jerry insisted, still holding up the knife. "Hey, uh, Ben on his way? You know, Ben Fields?" Come to think of it, where the hell WAS Ben? He and Jerry were supposed to be traveling the island, preventing conflict. Yeah. Ben was REALLY dropping the ball on this one. "We're, uh, working together."
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Nadia heard another boy shouting, saying he was Brendan Harte. Great. Now she was in a place with one loud, unstable person and one other person she wasn't sure how to deal with. She finally crept out from where she was and into the main room of the cabin. She could see Brendan and the other guy: Jerry Fury. He was a fighter and a braggart, and now he was overselling his calmness. Brendan was a swimmer and someone she only knew from a few classes. They were senior class peers, no one she was close to, but no one she was on bad terms with.

Jerry was, however, holding a knife, and being crazy, loud, and flailing a knife around was a recipe for disaster. Nadia remained on the other side of the room, keeping the walkie talkie in sight. Jerry was also saying there was someone else around. Ben Fields. He said he was waiting for Ben, but wasn't around. Nadia bit her lip. Separating from your friends and disappearing in a game like this usually was because of one unpleasant reason, so Nadia had to wonder to herself if Ben was taken out and if someone else was already playing.

Not that she was going to suggest that to Jerry, not while he still had a knife in hand.

"Okay, you're not nervous, I believe you," Nadia said to Jerry, her tone slightly sarcastic, "but how about keeping it down? We don't know who else is lurking here."
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Brendan was nervous. Of course, he was freaking nervous. Jerry wasn't? He found that hard to believe after what had just happened beforehand. This situation wasn't getting any better when the girl spoke up. Ah, Brendan kind of knew her. Nadia. Photographer. Didn't interact with her that much. Also Ben Fields was with Jerry. Brendan wasn't sure about that. He was sure that he hadn't seen him on the way to the cabin. Maybe Ben had hid somewhere so Brendan wouldn't have noticed him being around. It didn't really matter that much now.

Brendan stepped further into the cabin away from Jerry and he slowly began to lower his shaky hands. He really didn't want things to go from bad to worse with Jerry. "....L-Look, I just want to have a look around here. I don't want to have a fight. I just want to find my friends...." He was keeping an eye on Jerry and he didn't move from where he was. "....Okay, so you're with Ben. Can you please lower the knife, Jerry...?"

He just wanted to go and sit down. He felt tired. But he didn't dare take another step. Even though he just wanted to rest. He didn't want to suddenly get attacked from behind if he turned away from Jerry. That would be a foolish thing for Brendan to do. Besides, Brendan wasn't going to be trusting Nadia or Jerry yet.
Edited by Primrosette, Sep 4 2016, 01:22 PM.
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"Uh, fuck you. Wanna know why?" Jerry insisted, mostly directing his attention toward Brendan though he could kinda-sorta see Nadia from where he was on the stairs. "Because I have a knife, that's why. I NEED this thing, it's like... totally my baby." Yes. If his baby were sharp, made of steel, and equipped with a spring, it would totally be a switchblade. Somewhere along the line, that simile really got away from him.

Nadia did have a point, though, about there possibly being somebody in the house. "As far as I know, nobody's around. Not the ground, anyway." Jerry peeked over his shoulder to make sure the goddamn boogeyman didn't get him between then and now. Shit, the very thought of going upstairs was still kinda tweaking him out. "Dunno if somebody's hiding or sleepin' or is dead upsta- ugh. Creeped myself out..."

He allowed (as if he really had a choice) a shiver to roll over his shoulders. His hand was still tensed over the handle of the knife, and he snuck a look to Brendan; it was something in the vein of 'yeeeeah, you wanna try takin' this from me, fucker?' in his intention. Then again, without a mirror, it was hard to tell if he properly conveyed a look that said that or 'I just ate that burrito with a salsa maybe one notch too spicy, and I'm going to regret it later'.
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Nadia raised an eyebrow as Jerry continued his performance. Brendan had asked Jerry to put it down, and Jerry had in turn responded that the knife was his baby. She could almost find this comical, if it wasn't actually pretty sad. Maybe the gravity of the situation was already turning Jerry's brain into putty. Either way, Nadia didn't want that knife to become intimate with her stomach, so she was going to keep her distance from Jerry.

"Okay," Nadia said. "So you haven't checked the upstairs yet. Fine. But please, take a moment to cool your jets. If someone is upstairs, you're not helping by acting so antsy."

Nadia sighed and gave a quick glance over to Brendan. This was getting absurd, and she hoped it wouldn't turn out to be a colossal fuck-up.

"Just a thought."
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Well, fuck you too, buddy.

Brendan just thought of that suddenly. It kind of surprised him to think of swearing back at Jerry. He was relieved that he didn't say it. It would probably just make Jerry acting more like a threat. And he didn't want Jerry's weapon to be used on him. He really just wanted Jerry to calm down. He noticed that Nadia was trying to help. But would it work? Why was Jerry giving him a strange look?

Brendan raised an eyebrow and he took a step forward towards the stairs. "H-Hey.... Can you just chill out for a second?" Brendan was trying to sound polite, but he just sounded more irritated. Which he was to be honest. He wished that he had stayed at the gym now. But he made the choice to leave. It was his own fault and he had to accept it. He was still watching Jerry closely. He didn't trust him. Nadia seemed like she would be okay to ally with. "Y-You're not being helpful at all. Is it okay if I go upstairs...? I just want to have a look around. Uh.... Without you stabbing me in the back."

Brendan's voice had been quiet but he sounded a little more confident than he thought he would. If Jerry continued to be a nuisance.... Brendan wasn't sure what he would do. Maybe stay downstairs? He would possibly be safer with Nadia. He wasn't going to attack Jerry. That could lead Jerry to killing him. And he really didn't want that to happen.

Brendan glanced over to where Nadia was and he smiled a bit. He had to show her that he didn't pose as a threat. "Nadia...? Have you seen anyone yet...? Like Alba? Bernadette? Ty? Or Maxim?" He asked curiously. Did she know them? He would feel embarrassed if she didn't. He should have thought about it before asking that. He looked back at Jerry who was in the way. He really didn't want to get into a fight.
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Jerry's eyebrow twitched. If there was a stabbing for every time these fuckers told him some derivative of 'calm down' or 'chill out', there would be two very, very dead kids on the floor right about now.

No, no. He had self control. He had to show responsibility with the knife. Be the knife. Know the knife. Don't brutally murder his classmates with the knife unless it was totally warranted. "Okay. You tell me to calm down again, I will ACTUALLY kill you," Jerry growled. Alright, well, that could have gone better, but at least he gave them a warning, right? Anything that happened from here on in was clearly their fault. The court would probably see it that way, too.

Maybe.

"You want to go upstairs? Fine by me. It's honestly creeping me out a little bit, standing here." Jerry took a step down. "Uuuuuh, maybe get out of my way. You're not smelly or anything, just... y'know. Death game. Don't want you getting too close to me." Jerry flicked the knife to the side, motioning Brendan to maybe probably just a bit give him some goddamn space.

"I'll probably follow you up if nobody murders you."
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