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January 14th, 2011, 11:46 pm #11

Daisuke Nagazawa. Had he and Kimberly been friends? Liz couldn't remember. It was the sort of thing she knew as Liz Polanski, weirdo and eavesdropper extraordinare, but now her head was fuzzy, her throat stung, and she could feel the beginning of a nicotine headache coming on. Smoking was out of the question--now and ever, with her neck like this. Need to go to a hospital.

Daisuke Nagazawa. Back to Daisuke Nagazawa. He was in front of her, he was dead, he smelled. Strongly. It was making her embryonic headache worse.

Danya had stopped blowing up collars now. She'd won this particular game of chicken. People could be safe now. Blackout zones, she'd dropped her plan, and maybe there were people cleverer than her--not burning their neck off, but they could use the blackout zones to do something useful. Maybe get everybody out.

Yeah, that would be nice. Unlikely though. Liz was not an optimist.

And it was hard to think happy thoughts when there was a corpse in front of her.

Sick stink in this claustrophobic room. She could vomit now all over Kimberly's shoes but getting any kind of crap in her throat would be too painful. Speaking had taken a lot out of her--vomiting was a bad plan--bad plan--bad plan--

No. She could dry-heave anyway. She hadn't eaten.

This would be one of those things. One of those things where Kimberly asked her in a pained voice why she had killed Daisuke. And Liz would answer with the thoughts and schemes swirling around in her head, her odd brand of lateral thinking, and her exhausted anger, and Kimberly would be converted, or, more likely, hurt her, kill her, but she could take pain, it's not like pain was new or even interesting.

So. Come on, Kimberly. Get this shit over with.

She had energy now. Pained, but still. She should be moving, not watching a bloody corpse-show.

Pen and paper. Still in her hand. WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT OF THIS?
--------


Alice Boucher was a liar.
Liz Polanski played with fire.

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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MurderWeasel
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Joined: February 18th, 2009, 7:01 am

January 15th, 2011, 3:53 am #12

Aw, look, Liz didn't like being all up and close to a dead body. Wasn't that heart-wrenching? She was still human, deep down inside, or some shit like that. Only, hey, wait, no. Liz was a wuss. A coward. Couldn't even bear to deal with the consequences of her actions. Crazy thoughts: Make her kiss Daisuke. Make her get up real close and make out with a corpse. But no. No, that wasn't right, wasn't the right thing to do here. This wasn't about fucking Liz up. Well, okay, that was actually exactly what this was about, but it was about fucking Liz up in a very specific way.

And Liz was just gonna play along. What other choice did she have? It took strength to get what you wanted, and Liz had already burned through her stock. Kimberly vaguely wondered if it'd crush Liz to realize that she didn't even like the results of what she'd tortured herself for. Whatever. Everyone had to reap the rewards of their actions. Kimberly was totally prepared to deal with hers. Fuck, someone could round the corner at any moment, and if someone else saw this little scene, the shit would really hit the fan. A player might gun the both of them down, get a gun, two kills, and a special weapon in one go. A misguided "hero" wouldn't be very pleased about what Kimberly was doing, would try to stop her and save Liz, no matter what it took. If it came down to it, though, if someone tried to play savior, Kimberly was more than willing to plug Liz on the spot. No way was she losing this match. No regrets.

And Liz was writing. Ha. Good. Though she could still talk, just not much. Kimberly had to remember that. Had to keep everything straight, not let anything turn the situation. Liz showed her the words, the flashlight's beam flickering over them, and Kimberly just started laughing. Laughing and laughing, but not closing her eyes, stare and gun still fixed on Liz. Let it drag for a couple uncomfortable seconds.

"Liz," she said, "you stole the words right out of my fucking mouth. What is the point of this? Are you happy?"

Just wait. So many ways this could go now. This was the branching point. Liz's answer would say a lot about her, would determine Kimberly's avenue of attack. She had more than enough. The end, though, that was something she had all planned out pretty much any way this went.

Beautiful.
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January 16th, 2011, 4:11 am #13

Kimberly laughed and laughed and laughed. Liz tried to breathe while she laughed, tried to avoid coughing from the dank air, when coughing tore her throat, made her want to sit in a ball sobbing and be absolutely useless. Whatever the shit this girl wanted, being annoyed at this colossal waste of time just made her laugh. Great. Two points for the unhinged.

Not that she was in a place to talk. Her temples felt bruised.

"Liz," she said, "you stole the words right out of my fucking mouth. What is the point of this? Are you happy?"

What the hell is the point of this?

The nicotine headache was hitting now, hard. Liz could get used to the smell, but now she had her temples to worry about instead. Squeezing them hard wouldn't help. She needed another goddamn painkiller…

Fuck that. She was dehydrated. She needed water.

Kimberly was laughing and laughing and laughing. Or she had been a second ago. It was a little unsettling. Would Kimberly give her water? Be kind to her? Kimberly had no reason to be kind to her. Kind kind. But she wouldn't answer the question until Kimberly gave her water. No, she wouldn't. Something in her wasn't working right. She wanted to fix it.

"Water." She mouthed. A little sound escaped. Kimberly was looking down at her, what was the word? glowing with power. Glowing. Gloating. She liked where she was now. Power.

Liz stashed that information away for later, when she was more cognizant.

Right now she needed water. And Kimberly was looking down at her, reacting to her whispered plea, smiling and amused.

Yeah, no. Fuck later. This information was useful now.

"Please." she said, forcing sound, forcing spit. "I can answer you." She wanted it to come out as disdain. It came out as desperation. Guess I'm fucked. "I just need water."

Kimberly smiled. Turned. "Water?"

Smile, pearly whites. And Liz nodded because water, yes, water was what she wanted, and she didn't care how dumb she looked to get it.

Kimberly kept an eye on Liz, kept the gun on Liz, when she pulled the water from her bag. Her left arm was fucked-up; Liz was briefly glad, cached the information. The process was slow, tantalizing, probably like Kimberly wanted it, and Liz didn't know she could crave water so badly, crave that she'd beg it from her scorched throat.

But no. It wasn't just that. It was cognizance. She needed her mind back.

Kimberly rolled the bottle to her so Liz had to scramble and get it, nearer to Daisuke's corpse, getting the blood under her fingernails. She opened it and drank it gratefully, losing some on her face in eagerness. Falling to the ground again, dropping the bottle when she swallowed, because her throat hurt so much she gasped, and choked a little, coughing sour water into her mouth and swallowing it again.

Cognition was returning. Yes. She could think. She could rub her temples now, with her wet bloody hands, and feel the pain subside, from a pounding sting to a dull ache. Kimberly's question. She needed to answer Kimberly's question, so the girl with the gun could be happy, so she could go on her merry way.

What the hell is the point of this?

Paper. Pen. She could write, albeit slowly.

WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE.

She showed it to Kimberly.

THAT'S THE GAME. IT'S A STUPID GAME. IF WE TRY TO LEAVE, GET OUR COLLARS OFF, HE KILLS US.

Turn the page.

I'M GOING TO DIE. I FUCKED MY THROAT UP, AND PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO KILL ME. I'M NOT AN IDIOT ABOUT THAT.

She showed Kimberly this. Kimberly chuffed a little and nodded for her to go on.

She did. BUT THAT FUCKER GOT MR. KWONG. SO I'M GOING TO FUCK UP HIS GAME.

Turn the page.

I WANT TO GIVE PEOPLE WHO AREN'T ALREADY DEAD BETTER THAN NIL CHANCES. MAKE BLACKOUT ZONES. DROP MY STUPID PLAN. HOPE PEOPLE THINK UP A PLAN THAT'S LESS STUPID THAN MINE THAT MAYBE THEY CAN USE THE ZONES FOR.

Turn the page. She could write smaller now, if she took a little more time with it.

I GUESS YOU'RE PISSED THAT DAISUKE DIED. BUT DAISUKE WAS GOING TO DIE ANYWAY. WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE UNLESS SOMEONE FUCKS UP THIS GAME. SO I'M DOING IT.

RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO DIE. YOU'RE GOING TO DIE. WHATEVER PEOPLE YOU LIKE OR HATE OR WHATEVER ARE GOING TO DIE. THAT'S HOW THIS STUPID GAME IS PLAYED.

AND IF TWO PEOPLE AREN'T DEAD WHEN THIS SHIT IS OVER, THEN HE HASN'T WON.

Close the notebook. Her paper was almost out. She would have to get on that.

Cognition. She was back in business, albeit with a burnt throat and a semi-serious nicotine headache. And a crazy girl with a gun.

Good day, good day.

She looked up.
--------


Alice Boucher was a liar.
Liz Polanski played with fire.

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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MurderWeasel
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Joined: February 18th, 2009, 7:01 am

January 16th, 2011, 4:18 am #14

Hey, look. looked like Liz wasn't doing so hot. In fact, she was the one person Kimberly had encountered who seemed to be in even worse shape than she herself. Well, excepting Daisuke, of course. And Liz was looking up, just looking up with this awful look in her eyes, like a puppy that'd just been kicked by someone in steel-toed boots. And she was trying to say something, trying to speak again. Croaking and wheezing and shit. It was... actually, it was messing with Kimberly some. Not how she'd expected it to, either. She was supposed to be feeling sympathy or something, supposed to be feeling a bit of pity, even though she didn't give a shit about whether Liz had strep throat or was choking to death on her own bile or whatever. But she didn't. She didn't feel sorry. She felt, well, no way around it, no mincing words, not while she was being honest with herself. It felt damn good, looking down at Liz while she struggled.

So Kimberly didn't do shit, just stood and watched and smiled. Yeah, Liz. You want something? C'mon, let's hear it.

And then Liz was pleading. She wanted water. Water? That's it? All this, and it was just water? That... something was wrong. Couldn't be that simple. A trick? Maybe Liz had another weapon. Wasn't a gun, or she'd have reacted sooner. A smaller knife? Or maybe she'd go for a disarming blow, try to take the pistol. Had she noticed that Kimberly's arm wasn't in good shape?

Oh fuck this. She'd give Liz the fucking water and get an answer. Sure, she could wait, make her sweat, dehydrate her further and further, but at the end of the day, Kimberly wasn't all that patient a person. It wasn't like it was gonna hurt her to expedite this process a bit.

Well, okay, maybe it was, because there was no way in hell Kimberly was going to take her gun off Liz for a second. That meant she was going to have to try something new, something she hadn't done before. Something she really wasn't even sure she could do. Time to bluff a bit, put on a show. Time for a bit of feigned confidence, because dammit, she was not going to look weak in front of Liz in this moment. So she turned, smiled even more broadly, showing off her teeth, and said, "Water?"

And Liz nodded, all nice and obedient, so eager to please. This was right. This was how it should be.

Kimberly twitched her shoulder, shifting the bag around to her front without dropping her aim from Liz. Luckily, the zipper was hanging in front of her left hand. Had the bag been the other way, she'd have just given up and marched Liz to a puddle or something. But no, she could do this. She would do this. Fuck Kris. Fuck her arm. She would do this.

It was not a quick process. Kimberly slowly shifted the bag into position, wiggled her fingers a bit, got hold of the zipper. The movement to open it was more of the chest than the shoulder, thankfully. Even so, it sent a nice wave of pain shooting up and down between shoulder and elbow. She didn't cry out, didn't scream or gasp or tear up, but it was close. She got it, though, got the bag open four or five inches. Dipped her hand into it. She could still feel things just fine with her fingers. It took some effort to push the pain down to the point where she could recognize the sensations, though. Still, the bag wasn't that full. Some bread, some crackers, a first aid kit which had popped open.

There. Bottles. She had two full ones, refilled in a little stream some time before. She grasped one by the cap, risked bending her elbow to try to bring it out. Bad choice. The pain made her hand spasm, dropping the bottle back into the bag. Dammit. She took a couple deep breaths, forced herself to calm. Tried again. This time, instead of messing with her elbow, she just slowly, carefully shifted her torso, withdrawing the bottle inch by inch. As soon as it was clear, she let it fall to the ground, gave it a kick, maybe a bit harder than was strictly necessary, sending it rolling towards Liz. It passed her, coming to a stop by the body. Ah well.

Liz drank. Kimberly pushed the pain from her mind, focused on the cool gun in her good hand.

And then Liz was writing, showing her phrases, sentences. They were gonna die, Liz, Kimberly, everyone. Kimberly gestured for Liz to continue. Turns out Liz was pissed that Danya had the math teacher. She wanted to help other people. Wanted to give them a chance. Lots of self deprecation in there. Lots of assumptions. Liz thought Kimberly was pissed about Daisuke. Thought she didn't get that they were all fucked. Kept coming back to that, again and again.

The weird thing was, it let Kimberly respect her a bit more, since, well, they had something in common. Just a bit. Of course, she still had some things pretty wrong. It was enough to get Kimberly giggling again. She choked that down after a few seconds, though, breathed in, out. Spoke.

"You're selling me short, Liz. I don't give a fuck about Daisuke. I guess you don't get it.

"I know I'm gonna die. I know you are too. I've known it a while. Known it since the first day, Liz. You know what happened? I met Kris Hartmann, right at the start. I didn't know she'd already killed Reika. I thought we could maybe team up, fuck this system over, get clear. And you know what? The bitch shot me in the arm and left me for dead.

"So, after that, I was a bit less trusting of folks, you know. But it didn't do shit. I got robbed. Beaten. And you know what? None of those things comes even close to the worst thing that's happened to me here."

In her head, this had been very clearly planned. She would deliver a brief speech, tell Liz exactly what she was doing wrong. In practice, it wasn't going that way. She was getting mad. Furious. Losing control of herself. When that happened, there was only one way to salvage things, only one way to maintain power over the situation.

Kimberly just let herself go.

"I'm sitting on the mountain, just sitting there, and all of a sudden the announcements come on, tell me someone's fucked around, and someone else gets blown up. You know what, Liz? Four people died. Four people died, and none of them had a chance. None of them saw it coming. None of them could fight back. You say we're all gonna die? You're fucking right we're all gonna die, but that doesn't mean you should get to pick how and when. You're safe. You're throwing away other people's lives. You know what, shit, maybe you're right. Maybe you can get us off here. But hey, did you ask Daisuke if he wanted to be part of your operation? Did you ask any of them if they wanted to lend you a hand? Like fuck you did. Liz, you risked my life. There are what, two hundred of us left? That means each person blown up for you, there's a half a percent chance that's me. I'm gonna die, Liz. I've accepted that. But I'm gonna die on my terms, not because you got bored and found some new way to piss off Danya. You're being selfish, making other people's choices for them."

As she spoke, Kimberly's voice rose in pitch, nearing a shriek. Her hand trembled, but the gun was still straight enough.

Come on, bitch. Move. Do it. I dare you.

But Liz didn't move, and Kimberly found the worst of her fury spent. Besides, she had circled back to her original point, back to where she'd been going this whole time. Her voice was calmer again.

"You know what's wrong here, Liz? With this whole situation? It's not the killing. I mean, sure, that's bad, but the real evil is that they took our freedom. They took our futures. Danya took away our right to decide what happens to us.

"And you did exactly the same thing."
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January 18th, 2011, 6:31 am #15

"You know what's wrong here, Liz? With this whole situation? It's not the killing. I mean, sure, that's bad, but the real evil is that they took our freedom. They took our futures. Danya took away our right to decide what happens to us."

"And you did exactly the same thing."

---------

Those words echoed in Liz's head for a long time.

Liz was not a moralist. Ethics had never been something that came on more than an instinctive level for her. Sometimes things were right, sometimes things were wrong. Sometimes things were so wrong that you had to inconvenience yourself making them right, because no one else would. All of this came instinctively to her, a morality she'd learned, it seemed, from nowhere.

So this was the first time she had to think about such things. Albiet, between corpses and guns, it wasn't easy.

"So," she said. "I'm a killer."

It seemed correct to say it, somehow, not write it. And after the water, her throat hurt less.

She looked up at Kimberly for confirmation. Kimberly would know these things.

Kimberly nodded. Smiled.

"And you're saying I'm no better or worse than any of the other killers on the island?" Liz was speaking quietly. Trying not to hurt her throat.

Kimberly was silent this time. Perhaps she didn't want to give Liz any help.

Liz thought for a while. Her hands hurt less, so she used the chance to lean back and find a more comfortable position on the rock.

Finally she spoke, checking her throat before she did so. "I guess I'm okay with that."

Kimberly looked very taken aback. "Really?"

But Liz wasn't looking at Kimberly now. Liz was looking up. This was an intellectual problem now. Maybe Kimberly could help her, but first she had to puzzle it out in her own mind.

"I guess…I guess I would have liked it better if I could have been a good person. Especially at the end of my life. It seems like a nice thing to end your life as." Liz's words were coming slowly, reluctant and thoughtful. Morals were not as clearcut as proofs, but you could work with them the same way--a premise, an answer, and the steps to get there. "I've never really thought of myself as a real person, and being a good person is part of that. But I haven't really had to choose until now. I didn't have the power to effect anything important. I certainly didn't mean to, this time. I just wanted to survive."

That was tangential. What she wanted was tangential. It was what she had gotten that was interesting.

"But I burnt my throat and they have Mr. Kwong, and I'm not going to be able to go back to University, no matter how I play this. And I don't think--no, I'm sure they're not going to let him go, either."

This was more complicated then she expected. Took a moment to collect her thoughts. Counted powers of three. Hid away thoughts of Mr. Kwong.

"So I suppose I could either be good, or I could mess up the terrorists as much as possible. If I were good right now, I'd kill myself, I think. I wouldn't put anybody else at risk. I think that's what being good is. But I decided it was more important to mess up the terrorists as much as possible. I guess because I'm mad. And I haven't got anything left to lose. So even if all I do is create black spots where other people can work in, I suppose I did something? I don't want to be ineffective."

Oh, that was disorganized. Time to wrap up.

"So I guess my…vengeance, if that's what it was? Has become more important than being a good person. Which is kind of sad. But it's true."

"So I suppose I'm a serial killer. I wish I wasn't. But it's better than the alternative."

All this seemed correct. As long as she didn't think of Mr. Kwong--Mr. Kwong and all his stupid hopes that she'd become a good person.

She didn't like disappointing him.

But it was too late now.
--------


Alice Boucher was a liar.
Liz Polanski played with fire.

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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MurderWeasel
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January 19th, 2011, 4:59 am #16

Kimberly waited for a while. Let that one sink in, Liz. Let it fester. Let's see what you say then.

And lo and behold, it did not disappoint. Seemed like Liz was smart enough to puzzle it out. Made sense, since she was the one causing the terrorists all this trouble. She realized what she'd done, that she'd killed and stolen. The question now was, what came next? A breakdown? Crying? Screaming? Suicide? Kimberly didn't really give a damn, in the grand scheme of things. She'd won. She'd caught Liz Polanski, and she'd rubbed her face in her crimes.

And there was Liz, suddenly stripped of her veneer of heroism, and she was looking to Kimberly, now, looking for help or support or something. Kimberly smiled. Nodded. Good. On the right track. Let's keep going a bit further, though, shall we?

Liz asked a question. She wasn't better or worse than the others, right? Kimberly didn't even bother replying. Better? Worse? That didn't mean anything. Not now. Maybe, just maybe, not ever. She'd picked a comparative technique to play on Liz's insecurities, not her own.

And then, Liz spoke, and suddenly, Kimberly was surprised. Liz was okay with it? Okay with it? With being a killer? A murderer?

"Really?"

An honest question, for a change. Not a jab, not exactly. A request for clarification. Kimberly did not like being surprised, but, for a change, she wasn't too pissed by this turn of events. This was more like what she'd expected. Sure, she'd been satisfied to see Liz a wimp, a loser, but then it didn't mean anything. Then utterly destroying her was just a pointless exercise, a waste of time. If that was the case, she'd be better off having never stopped in here, having gone straight for Kris, forget Liz, forget the gun. After all, Liz was right on one thing: Danya had stopped the collar explosions, at least for now.

Liz was looking away. Talking it out. Puzzling things through. It was fascinating, listening to her thought process. Of course, Kimberly was also taking advantage of the time and Liz's distraction, quickly extracting the second clip for the gun from the bag, stuffing it into her pocket, taking the risk of using her good hand, grasping with her two smallest fingers. Better safe than sorry. Someone could show up at any moment, and that would be highly unfortunate, especially if she actually used all her ammunition.

And Liz went on and on, just kept talking, but it was making sense. It was actually making some fucking sense. Problem was, it was making too much sense. Sounded an awful lot like the reasons Kimberly had gone off after Kris, the reasons she'd gone after Liz. And, if Liz was like Danya, then wasn't that perfectly fitting? It was a never ending chain of sorrow, a string of dominoes just starting to tip. Someone would come for Kimberly if she killed Liz. Someone else would kill Liz if she didn't, and then yet another would come after them. None of it mattered, and Kimberly loved it.

She loved it because it was what she'd known since the start. She loved it because Liz didn't get it yet. She loved it because Liz thought she had won. She'd parsed the information, figured out her little moral imperative. She said she was a serial killer. Seemed she actually got it, at least a little. But there was understanding, and then there was grasping, and Kimberly didn't really think Liz grasped the matter yet. Time to change that.

Kimberly smiled.

Knelt in front of Liz.

Looked up at her, and pointed the gun straight at her face.

"Put your hand out, nice and easy." Of course, Liz complied.

And never flinching, never breaking her smile, Kimberly smoothly flipped the gun around, into Liz's hand, and guided it down a notch, pressing the barrel into her forehead.

"Well come on, serial killer," she said. "Time to get a mark by your name, ward off some of the people who mean business."

Safety off. Gun between her eyes. And Kimberly just kept smiling, because, she knew, oh yes, she knew that no matter what happened, she had won.
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January 19th, 2011, 11:50 pm #17


Liz didn't want to shoot Kimberly.

At this point, tired, headached, and distantly intellectual, she hadn't expected any kind of instinctive morality to kick back in. It seemed like a thing she was, for better or worse, done with.

But now Kimberly wanted her to shoot, and she really, really didn't think that shooting was correct. Some of her was also wondering why Kimberly had given her this opportunity in the first place, but that seemed tangential.

So Liz held the gun to Kimberly's head, and focused on the number of times she could see the vein in Kimberly's forehead pulse. Heartbeats. The entire world felt very strange and distant now, peaked and motionless.

"Why would I shoot you?" She asked, finally. "You don't want to die. And you just gave me a gun."

Kimberly smiled crookedly. "Like you said, we're all gonna die sooner or later. Killing me serves as a deterrent. It shows the others that you're dangerous, can take some fucking care of yourself. Might keep the hunters away."

There had to be a reason why killing her was a bad idea. This couldn't be just instinct. Instinct didn't matter. There had to be logic.

"I think," Liz said slowly, "that if I killed you, it would just give all the moral people who haven't yet let themselves hunt me an excuse to. Also, I don't want to shoot you. I never said I liked being a serial killer."

That was probably not the best defense she could give, but with this entire confusing situation, and her head pounding and saying _you'll never smoke a cigarette again_ and the gun bringing unhealthy energy back, the sort of energy she could use to scatter plans and smash cameras, it was the best defense Kimberly was going to get.

So she removed the gun from Kimberly's forehead, and put it in her sweatshirt pocket. Another weapon for the stash.

And then, both of them heard it. Footsteps moving closer to them in the tunnels.

Liz tensed, glad her energy was back. Stood, slowly. Cocked the gun, in her sweatshirt pocket--the mechanism was frighteningly intuitive. Worked to wrap her burnt hands around the trigger.

"Looks like you need this more than I do." Kimberly said. She was grinning again, a little, as she dumped the spare clip out of her pocket. "Catch you later."

And she winked at Liz, and left.

What?

Liz was more confused than she had ever been in her life.

But never bloody mind that.

She kept the gun aimed at the dark.
--------


Alice Boucher was a liar.
Liz Polanski played with fire.

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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MurderWeasel
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January 20th, 2011, 12:27 am #18

Wait. Wait. Wait. Was this the end?

Not a fucking chance, seemed like. They waited a bit, Liz with the gun in her hand, the barrel pressed against Kimberly's forehead, thinking or something. Thinking. And Kimberly was thinking too, wondering. Would she be satisfied if Liz pulled the trigger, blew out the back of her head and dropped her lifeless corpse to the ground next to Daisuke? She thought she would. Lots of things she'd left undone, lots of things she'd do if she got a chance, but she had no regrets. After all, she was playing with Liz, playing to win, all in, cards on the table.

So when Liz got nervous, started talking, Kimberly didn't bail her out. When she tried to talk her way out of it, to logic her way clear, Kimberly didn't just let her off the hook.

"Like you said," Kimberly told Liz, "we're all gonna die sooner or later. Killing me serves as a deterrent. It shows the others that you're dangerous, can take some fucking care of yourself. Might keep the hunters away."

Think that one through, Liz. Kill one now, save yourself some trouble later. Sounds good, doesn't it?

Way in the back of her mind, part of Kimberly was screaming at her, telling her to stop fucking around, to run now, apologize and run and hope Liz didn't change her mind, seize the time she had left and go find Kris or something, anything, anything except dying here in this underground maze, the smell of blood and death lingering in the air around her. She shut that part of her mind off, though. Didn't take much effort. She was going to be honest with herself, and she wanted this. Not to die. To force Liz's hand.

And Liz backed down. Decided not to do it. Turned out she was a wimp after all. She didn't want to shoot Kimberly. Great call, there, but what if Kimberly wanted to shoot her, decided to pull a backup weapon and mess Liz up?

Liz pulled the gun away, and Kimberly loosened up a bit. Considered speaking. The footsteps stopped her. She froze for a second, and in that second, Liz cocked the pistol and stood up.

And with that, Kimberly was smiling again, as she stood as well.

"Looks like you need this more than I do," she said, dropping the spare clip to the ground, listening as it clinked off a small rock.

"Catch you later."

She shot Liz a wink, and then she was off, back into the tunnels, into the darkness. A flick of her fingers, and her flashlight was extinguished, the world gone, vanished. She felt her way slowly along the walls.

It was maybe five minutes later, far from Liz, that she started laughing, laughing and laughing, the sound bouncing around, chorusing and duplicating itself.

((Kimberly Nguyen continued in In Theory, This Should Be Easy))
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Grim Wolf
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Joined: November 9th, 2009, 5:39 am

January 24th, 2011, 4:47 am #19

(Mirabelle Nesa continued from The Middle Children of History)

She's caught her break when she'd stumbled onto the first of the destroyed cameras.

A quick run to the Sawmill, rifling through the bags of the fallen. Some of those crappy, cardboard-tasting rations; some of the water, as yet unopened; and then, quick as she could, off across the island, hunting.

She had to here somewhere. And Belle had to find her.

She moved with desperation, with anxiety, with hope and fear. If she'd been killed since the Morning Announcements, Belle was well and truly fucked. She couldn't think up something like this on her own; she didn't have that kind of skill, that kind of knowledge. She needed someone who did, and someone who had used it successfully before.

She needed Liz Polanski. She needed someone to help her through.

She lost them, for awhile--she found one, then two, then three, but then she lost them, and she couldn't find a single one. She ran frantically here and there, trying to find something, anything, that showed her what she needed to-

She found an entrance to the Tunnels, and without a second thought she descended into the darkness.

There would be time for thoughts of Samantha Ridley and Garrett Hunter later. For now, she was going to get out, and Liz Polanksi was going to help her do it.

The tunnels were labyrinthine and intricate; she could see and feel nothing. She turned on her flashlight without a thought for her own safety; she ignored the two bodies she found, stepping over them.

She had been content to fight. Now that contentment was gone; Samantha Ridely had taken it from her. She was going to live, and Liz Polanski was going to make that happen.

There was someone there. Someone not dead.

Belle stopped moving.

She was wearing all black. She had metal in her face. She had severe burn marks around her neck. And she was pointing a gun at Mirabelle.

Belle recognized her. Seen her in the halls, they'd shared a math class.

"Liz," she said, and as she said it something burst in heart, a warm something she hadn't felt since she'd stood over Garrett's unconscious body all those days ago. "You're...you're alive."

Drink in the reality. She'd actually found the girl she was looking for. She had, Samantha Ridley to the contrary, actually done something right.
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V6 Players

Tara Behzad: "They don't get to decide how I die."

Lizzie Luz: "I don't want to go."

Alex Tarquin: "No more masks."
[+] spoiler

G053 Karen Idel, DECEASED: Game over.

B040 Tyler Lucas, DECEASED: I had fun. You?

B046 Xavier Contel, DECEASED : "G-gotta...trust people, Arthur. G-g-gotta try. C-can't be afraid."
[+] spoiler

B054 Raidon Naoko (DECEASED): "Dying like this isn't so bad..."

B072 Simon Grey (DECEASED): "I never was a hero, but, God help me, I tried."

B079 David Meramac (DECEASED): "Running towards nothing. Running from nothing."

G072 Mirabelle Nesa (DECEASED): "I'm a weak little girl who couldn't save anyone, even myself, but god damn it I beat you and god damn it you are going to remember that because I am Mirabelle Nesa and I am a hardened goddamn warrior and I am not going to fucking give up now!"
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Joined: August 9th, 2010, 3:28 am

January 24th, 2011, 4:43 pm #20

It was Mirabelle Nesa.

Liz remembered Mirabelle Nesa. She'd shared a math class with her. Mirabelle was intense, that was the word, which Liz liked. Liz was often described as intense.

And Mirabelle didn't look like she was going to kill her. If anything, she looked awed. Or horrified.

"Liz." She said. "You're…you're alive."

Liz was still holding the gun at Mirabelle, but she really wanted to put it down. Really wanted to sit down. Her legs were trembling from standing, she probably still wasn't in great physical shape, water aside. Hunger fatigue. She still--she still had some crackers from Isabelle Guerra, yeah?

"Yeah." Liz said. It was a dumb answer. Obviously she was alive. Mirabelle was probably asking something different, but Liz couldn't intuit what it was. People are hard.

Liz squinted to see if Mirabelle had anything in her hands. She couldn't see anything. No weapons? Mirabelle might not be trying to kill her, then. She really didn't want Mirabelle to be trying to kill her. She might be too tired to do anything about it.

Damnit, Liz, you suck at this. Game. Win. Danya. Fuck him. Stop being exhausted and wishing for cigarettes.

But oh, Liz didn't feel badass at all. Not that she had felt badass since, oh, two seconds before she had burned half her neck off.

So. Let's take a risk so you don't faint like an asshole. Ever so slightly. Lower the gun.

"From your expression, I'm going to assume you're not going to murder me." Liz said crabbily. You idiot, you're a mess at telling people from expressions. "So I'm going to quit standing up, like a mess, and lower this gun at least far enough to not immediately shoot you, and get something to eat. Because Jesus, I'm hungry."

So. Let's see how Mirabelle took that.

Yeah. If she got murdered, it was all her dumb fault. Good luck.
--------


Alice Boucher was a liar.
Liz Polanski played with fire.

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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