Lost Memento

Mungo
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Mungo
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Joined: February 24th, 2011, 10:09 pm

April 19th, 2011, 3:25 am #1

(PNK4 Ben Grayson Start.)


Ben laid on his side, head throbbing, right arm bent at an uncomfortable angle. These things were the first sensations he recollected, eyelids twitching but not opening. Sound came next, the gentle rhythm of waves crashing into the softness of the sand. He groaned, opening his eyes and blinking rapidly as the sun beat down upon him. Shifting to a seated position, he deliberately chose to focus on his arm before anything else. Rubbing at the elbow, he restored circulation. As he turned his head to survey his surroundings, he felt the collar around his neck. Sighing, he knew better than to mess with it.

Then his gaze fell upon the backpack. "You're going to have to acknowledge it at some point..." he grumbled to himself. But still he refused to think about where he was and why.

Climbing to his feet, Ben grabbed the pack. An old boat shack stood a ways off. Ben squinted towards it but there were no signs of movement or other life. Making his way closer, Ben suddenly thought of that day from before. Outside and after school. Zach, Suzanne, and who was that guy who called him Ben-o? Shawn. Yeah, that was him. Unless those people were on his team he'd have to kill them. Ben tried not to think of that either.

He reached the shack. Nothing much inside and trying to use a boat seemed pointless. Try to escape and they'd activate your collar. Not to even mention the internet backlash. So, Ben plopped into the sand once more. Unzipping the backpack, he rummaged through the contents. A brief smile crossed his face at the first-aid kit. With it, he could apply his medical knowledge to himself or to his teammates. Not that he'd relish performing impromptu surgery on anyone.

Forming an inventory in his mind, he paused and frowned. No gun, no blade, nothing that even resembled a weapon. Except...he had extra bandanas. Two pink ones with frilly, girlish love hearts. Then in a separate bag a few dyed with other colors. The message was clear enough. Multiples of pink meant that was his team, while the others could be used for subterfuge. But was that it? The homicidal applications of bandanas were few. Strangulation came to mind, but maybe that would be easier if he could fool people into thinking he was their squad mate.

His fingers hit the bottom of the pack and it hit him. He didn't have his sketchbook. Well, of course not. Why would the producers provide such a personal item?

He staggered to his feet and gulped in huge amounts of salty sea air. He needed it, he needed that book. Truthfully, it had been a crutch, but Ben rationalized it as an outlet for his emotions. What would he do without it now?

"This is Survival of the Fittest," he said to himself. "Find your team."

Voice and hands shook as he tied one of those outrageous bandanas around his head. If he had to find his teammates or someone he could pretend to be a teammate of.
Ben Grayson - Alive
PNK4: Gold Pretender
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Hollyquin
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Joined: June 18th, 2010, 10:35 pm

April 19th, 2011, 6:11 am #2

[[Terrilynn "Lynn" Boden continued from nowhere in particular...]]

Her bandanna.

It wasn't red.

This was a major issue.

She'd coordinated this outfit special. It was supposed to go with her hat, her favorite hat, and that hat was bright red. It wasn't grey, like the bandanna she found in her backpack when she woke up and started searching, in a panic, when she realized her bandanna was gone. She'd figured, okay, they needed to take her bandanna off to put that fucking collar on her- not even gonna get started on that thing, it was seriously fucking with her swag- so she'd gone through her backpack and she'd found a bandanna and it was grey.

It was ugly and she hated it, but then she remembered the whole team bit.

Lynn didn't play well with others, usually. She had friends, yeah, and she worked okay with them, but they weren't gonna put her on a team with her friends, were they? They were gonna put her on a team with...with whoever the fuck they wanted to. Probably the girls that made fun of her- they'd think that was hilarious, yeah, or maybe they'd stick her with some of those stuck up rich bitches from the other school, what was it? Silver Dragon Whatever the Fuck? Any one of those kids probably had enough money to buy Detroit Central. Fucking conceited little...

Well, there was time for that. Time to freak out some more, once she knew who was actually on her team. As far as she knew she'd ended up her boys back from DCHS and they could just run around, popping bitches off. Easy. Not that she really wanted to think about that, that whole killing people thing. She'd heard of people dying, heard gunshots on the street, and she'd beaten the everloving shit out of more than one person in her time. But killing?

Not that she had to think of that right now. She didn't exactly have anything to be killing with.

She found it pretty quickly, opening her backpack- it was easily the bulkiest thing inside. She recognized it for what it was pretty quickly- a bulletproof fucking vest. It wasn't a bad thing to have, definitely not, what with the bullets she was sure would be flying everywhere the second the game really got started. So she got the thing on, and kept digging, and realized- that was her weapon. Or what she got instead of a weapon, more like.

So when Lynn saw the silhouette of a person in the near distance, she probably shouldn't have started walking towards it. She probably should've gone far away, but Lynn didn't want to spend any more time than she had to alone. Who knew? Maybe she'd get lucky.

There was a bandanna on the boy's- it was a boy, she saw now- head. She couldn't tell what color, but it was light, and so was hers. Who knew? Maybe she'd gotten lucky.

"Hey! You!" she called, less than tactfully. "You on my team?"
[+] Spoiler
DECEASED:
[x] [B02] Durriken "Duncan" Lovel // Rank 35th // "Sorry." // - -
[x] [F08] Ryan Montoya // Rank 15th // I'll give Logan my regards, Luke. Get the fuck out of here. For both of us. // - - - -
[SOTF: TV] ALIVE:
[x] Terrilynn "Lynn" Boden [GRY2] // Bulletproof Vest // Detroit Central High School // "Who the FUCK do you think you're talking to? Yeah...yeah, that's what I thought." // CL: The Ski Resort :: Whatcha Gonna Do
[x] Leopold Sutherland [W04] // Silver Dragon Academy // Dildo (discarded) // "Oh, this? Yes, it's vintage, my grandfather wore it in the seventies...I'm sure you've heard of him." -----> Adopted by Fioriboy
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Mungo
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Mungo
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Joined: February 24th, 2011, 10:09 pm

April 19th, 2011, 6:45 am #3

Ben paced around the sand, trying to think. He had to win. He had to be brave. He had to utilize the weapons made available to him. The problem, however, was that unlike a gun, the power of the bandanas wouldn't last long. He figured that the teams would start out on equal footing--at least in regards to numbers. His plans all depended on how fast teams got together and interacted with others. Right now, Ben could pose as anyone. But as they convened and learned, an extra member might be odd. The mentors were another unknown factor. Would one of them outright tell their team that Ben wasn't of their number? From a TV storytelling standpoint it didn't seem likely. Ben's infiltration of another team could be played out for drama.

He breathed inwards again, skirting the edge of the water. If he masqueraded as a certain team's member, which one would it be? He could only guess at the makeup of each respective squad. There was also the strategy of information gathering. Starting early on he could sneak about and grill people about their weapons and anyone else they had met. But then he'd either have to escape or dispatch them. Neither would prove easy.

But then a voice, interrupting his thoughts. A member of his team? No, probably not. They wouldn't drop people too close together. Ben had to act fast. His dark hair covered most of his bandana's pinkness, but if he blundered here, there would be an entire team later who already knew his true allegiance. Thankfully, the girl didn't seem to be in that much of a hurry. Ben didn't have much experience with the opposite sex. They usually ignored him--or if they knew of his drawings--called him a psychopathic freak.

He reached into his bag, digits practically smashing the bread as he searched for the bandanas. "What team is that?" He called. The words coming out forced, haltingly.

Great, he'd probably lost all advantage he might've had. He saw the bulkiness of the vest. Anyone worth their position in the game would probably be armed by now. If they had a gun. So at least it didn't appear he'd be dying already.

Still, Ben kept his distance, edging back towards the ramshackle boathouse again.

His first encounter and he already wanted to hide.
Ben Grayson - Alive
PNK4: Gold Pretender
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Mungo
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Mungo
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Joined: February 24th, 2011, 10:09 pm

April 19th, 2011, 7:43 pm #4

Ben's heart thundered in his chest as he continued to inch backwards. Eventually, he bumped into the boathouse, fingertips scraping into weather beaten wood. Pressing against the structure, he shuffled around it, until he was at the other side, the whole building now separating him from the girl. No doubt his whole display looked absurd.

But it didn't matter, Ben reminded himself. She hadn't displayed any pink bandana and he had secrets to protect. It struck him then. Disinformation could serve him too. If he went into every area with a different color bandana, no one except for his team would know which one he exactly belonged to. And any amount of confusion for others--but not his squad--would be beneficial. A memory flashed briefly. Ben hadn't read the book for a while, but his mother had once possessed a battered copy of The Art Of War by some Chinese philosopher. He was fairly certain there was something in there about surprise and deceit.

So that pretty much summed up his reasons for running now, besides the fact that he was also terrified of interacting with someone he didn't know. He hadn't acted quickly enough to go into his bag and pick out whichever bandana. If that girl saw him now, she'd rightly determine his team as pink.

With all this in mind, Ben simply turned and ran in the opposite direction. He wondered whether he should feel bad. Some people would need companionship in a game such as this.

(Ben continued... The Forest)
Ben Grayson - Alive
PNK4: Gold Pretender
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Hollyquin
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Joined: June 18th, 2010, 10:35 pm

April 27th, 2011, 11:10 pm #5

"What team is that?"

Great, now he was asking questions. Well...okay, that was a logical question to ask, yeah, she'd kind of asked if he was on her team without him having any way of knowing what team that was. Why hadn't she told him? She should've just said, "I'm on the gray team, if you are too come talk to me, and if you're not go the fuck away", but hell, those were too many words and couldn't it be dangerous? Telling him what team she was on?

Yeah, yeah, he could, like...shoot me. Fuck, this really is SOTF-TV, isn't it? Gotta look for death around every corner...not so far off from home, really. But he's not holding a gun, I don't think, I should be alright...Should've put the vest on! Shit...

Of course, by the time Lynn was finished working through all of this, the boy was already gone. Dashed off to wherever-the-fucksville. She groaned. Perfect. Should've just spat it out...hope he's not on my team, he's obviously a pussy...

She didn't let it bother her for too long. She had more important things to do, like getting her fucking bulletproof vest on. She took the few steps back needed to where she'd dumped her things, picking up the heavy vest, wincing. I'm not built for this kind of shit...this is so friggin' heavy... She managed to pull it on, eventually, cursing herself for not getting more exercise. Seriously, how was she gonna make progress with this thing on?

Better than being shot. ...Shit, I can get shot!

It kept coming back to her. And back, and back. Lynn was on SOTF-TV. Lynn was probably going to die. These were things she was kind of having trouble swallowing.

She'd figure it out. Maybe. She needed a weapon first, though. Not that she wasn't happy to have this vest.

The one that was crushing her lungs.

Urgh.

She pulled on her backpack with some difficulty and headed out. No sense staying here. No sense staying anywhere.

[[Terrilynn Boden continued in Whatcha Gonna Do]]
[+] Spoiler
DECEASED:
[x] [B02] Durriken "Duncan" Lovel // Rank 35th // "Sorry." // - -
[x] [F08] Ryan Montoya // Rank 15th // I'll give Logan my regards, Luke. Get the fuck out of here. For both of us. // - - - -
[SOTF: TV] ALIVE:
[x] Terrilynn "Lynn" Boden [GRY2] // Bulletproof Vest // Detroit Central High School // "Who the FUCK do you think you're talking to? Yeah...yeah, that's what I thought." // CL: The Ski Resort :: Whatcha Gonna Do
[x] Leopold Sutherland [W04] // Silver Dragon Academy // Dildo (discarded) // "Oh, this? Yes, it's vintage, my grandfather wore it in the seventies...I'm sure you've heard of him." -----> Adopted by Fioriboy
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