T-Fox
Winner
Joined: April 16th, 2009, 7:40 pm

February 8th, 2011, 5:57 am #41

There was a sound. Something that sounded absolutely abhorent. And then he watched Brook's head rear back, and his lips contort, a soft plop piercing the absolute silence. His eyes darted to the ground in the location where Brook's saliva had landed. And then almost immediately, back to the boy's face. Colin tracked and traced every single movement. Watching as Brook ran his sleeve across his face. He watched in a mixture of morbid curiosity and horror as Brook, even in the unending dark seemed to stare past his form and to the bodies behind him. He was so focused, so content to stare at the object of what had once been his own hatred and fear.

And then suddenly, with a jerk, Brook's head moved away, and Colin jumped back involuntarily. His eyes widened like a cat's as he watched on. His captor, his assailant seemed to be hunting... Searching... His attention was broken. His head turned this way and that against the dark, dreary forest. His face seemed to echo ponderance. Probably at his own demise. Which terrified him to his core. His entire life was boiling down to fight or flight, terror, a desire to flee. He knew that Brook had that Gun, and with that, he knew that he stood absolutely no chance of escape should he decide to pull that trigger. A single, quick, action. Such an easy action, with no repercussion for the wielder of the weapon. Even with a sword, the wielder felt that sting in his hands upon contact with the solidity of another human body. He had to realize that humanity, the act of which he was performing. The gun did not offer that same repercussion. The gun offered no backlash, no pain.

And suddenly, in the middle of Colin's broken train of thought, Brook stalked off into the night. And before he could even make a decision as to whether this was a good idea, he quickly found himself on his own two feet. His chest hurt, and it was difficult to draw breath; his mouth hanging open as he drew in breath the only way he still could. It was loud, it was sloppy, and his now broken nose would probably afford him an inability to ever sing properly again. That was something he could never forgive Brook for. His livelihood, his dream, shattered before him, in just as many pieces as his own skull. Upon finding a moment later down the road, he knew he would weep. He would sing a now nasly tune, and try and forget. But the sound would be a constant reminder upon his escape.

Which, despite his misgivings, he found himself attempting to take now. His loafers pounded the dirt, each in sync with a beat of his own heart. Time slowed to a crawl as he hung in space, each foot slapping upon the soft, wet ground with a soft slap.

One.

Two..

Three...

Four....

His breath was heavy, and his entire body hurt, but he was fleeing towards freedom. He just needed to reach that tree line... Reach that tree line, and escape.

And it was then that he heard Brook's voice from behind him. Apparently the Keeper of the Gardens of the Inferno had found whatever devilish implement he had been searching for. The voice was cold as ice, and felt as though it made his entire body contract from sheer cold of it's harsh, cutting tongue.

"Heeeeeellllooooo!!! Colin! You'll never guess! I think I found just what we need!"

Perhaps that cringe, that contraction had in reality slowed him down. Not much, but enough.

Just enough...
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
[+] spoiler
B008 - Peter McCue - "Welcome home Katlin." - "DECEASED" - (Killcount: 0) - St. Paul, Minnesota [RANK: 82/276]
B011 - Chadd Crossen - "Janet... I forgive you for everything." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Northern Cliffs: Sometimes Sanctuary isn't That Far Away... [RANK: 242/276]
B018 - Colin Falcone - Damned if Danya could stop him; even in death. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Antonio Russo) - The Costal Woods: One Final Bow [RANK: 161/276]
G020 - Jacquard "Jackie" Broughten - She was never really alone at all. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Maria Santiago) - The Tunnels: Peripeteia [RANK: 106/276]
B100 - Rekka Saionji - "Real... men... don't cry." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Tunnels: It Knows Nothing of Whim [RANK: 208/276]
What is wrong with you people?!
[+] spoiler
(7:07:51 PM) Little: "TAKE THAT MOM. YOU TRIED TO PROTECT ME, BUT I'VE BEEN TEN COCKS DEEP 24/SEV-UNNNNNN"
Rattlesnake: ...He says confidently after burning his roll null. I think Ciel just punched the RNG in the face.
Namira: Ciel: Punch RNG in the snout to establish superiority.
KamiKaze: I think Kyle enjoys the scent of poor people.
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MK Kilmarnock
Mr. Danya
Joined: April 14th, 2009, 10:12 pm

February 9th, 2011, 4:17 am #42

Brook allowed himself a few minutes to marvel at the stroke of luck in his hand. Imagine that, how he could turn a piece of trash somebody had carelessly chucked near where the garden would be into something that should help him finish it. Hell, that'd be right up there in innovation with using black garbage bags to warm the soil, hinder weeds and promote growth back home! Of course, he wouldn't use such a thing here; the more plants, the better. He'd be going au natural for the time being.

"Yup, this will do just fine, won't it Colin?"

...

Colin? Don't tell me you died al-

Brook turned to look at the spot of pressed grass where a boy had been laying just moments ago, and his blood pressure probably spiked about a good twenty points. Where was he... where the FUCK was he? Brook nearly fell over his feet running to the spot where Colin was, fixated on the terrible fact that ANOTHER person might have escaped his garden. Not another one... no, Tiffany wouldn't stand for it! There had to be more... he needed to kill more!

His agitated heart skipped a beat when he managed to yank his head up from the now Colin-less ground. There was the boy, wavering a little in his steps to try and get to the trees at the clearing's edge. Safety likely lurked in the darkness, and that was simply something Brook could not allow to happen. His quarry had not gotten away, nor would he ever. Nobody would escape this place, not if he had his way. Not if she had her way.

You're NOT getting away!

The pistol in his hand was raised, Brook aimed for somewhere around Colin's head and shot to the boy who was around ten yards away. He squeezed the trigger again, and once more, a satisfying and wrist-jerking crack thundering through the area. There was a moment immediately afterward where he could feel nothing but dissatisfaction; he had doubts about the trashy weapon the moment he had received it, and the two people he had killed with it had both been literally at point blank range... no real chance to miss there. Three shots squeezed off, and none of them shattered through the back of the boy's skull to render his face a fine red mist.

One second and one loud, pathetic scream later, though, Brook was overjoyed to learn one of them had gone right through Colin's left knee. There was a spray of red, some lovely but indescribable splattering sound, and Colin collapsed to the ground. Now THAT was a stroke of luck! Took three gosh-darned bullets to pull it off and he still wasn't sure which one of them was the offender. Ah, but who cares? His hunt was successful, and Colin wasn't going anywhere! Now the fun part could start!

Brook dropped the bottle right there on the grass for now, since he'd need a spare hand and the Liberator had just done its job so well. He happily strutted to the injured and writhing prey on the ground, wrapping his free hand in a vicegrip aroud the ankle of the wounded leg. Cheerily, he dragged the catch of the day face-down all the way back to near the center of the garden, back to where the bottle of honor was waiting.

"Fuck's sake, Colin, you really are a kill-joy, aren't you?" Brook sighed in content as he dropped the boy's leg, pocketing the pistol for now. He likely wouldn't need it, not anymore... he didn't think Colin was going anywhere any time soon. "I mean, really, you were okay at first, but it's like you're TRYING to mess up my night!"

The shattering of glass pierced the night as Brook spiked the bottle at the back of Colin's head. Another scream... that was good! Unfortunately for the bottle, it took the impact even worse than was to be expected, leaving no intact neck to swing and cause more mayhem, no intact circular base to play cookie-cutter on Colin's back. That presented itself as a bit of a problem and a loss of fun potential, until a glint of dying moonlight reflected off of a particuarly large and jagged shard of glass. Perfection shined right back to Brook's mischevious eyes as he knew just what he would do.

Placing a foot on Colin's back, he used it as leverage to tear off a strip of cloth from the boy's shirt. Using it as a guard to prevent himself from cutting up his own hand in accident, Brook picked up the shard of glass in his safely-swaddled fingers and went to kick Colin over.

Take a breath, Brook. Take a bow if you want to. Smile to the camera, they're witnessing a masterpiece in the making.

"Ooooh, Colin... you had a pretty good run, you did, but tell me... isn't it better this way?" Brook asked, lowering himself to one knee beside the boy. He thought to say something else, but he just couldn't keep his hands to himself anymore! Goddamn, so much blood leaking from everywhere, and more of it needed to come out! The shard of glass found its mark just below Colin's ribs, carving a gash into his left side. Brook forgot what organ was there, but it couldn't be too far beneath. He had to be careful not to slice any of those... he wasn't a monster, after all.

He would get up, listen to the atmospheric screaming, walk around and survey where the next incision would be made before making it. Other side, for posterity's sake. Another one right in his pesky little right bicep, seeing as he liked to flail it around so much. Another gash right along the humerus on the same arm because, really, it just annoyed him so much! Brook continued to work, making cut after bloody cut into his ungrateful project.

Well, at least his screaming's died down a little...

He took a step back to admire his handiwork and receive Tiffany's satisfaction, relieved that Colin had finally figured out screaming was just giving them both a headache, and nobody really wanted one of those. But he didn't want things to be so... quiet, either. The garden needed more life... needed more vigor.

He knew just the thing!

"Colin, you sing, don't you? C'mon... why don't you cheer things up with one of those little showtunes of yours?" Brook hummed to get himself in the mood, pacing around Colin. "D'awwww, Coliiiiin! Come on! Hey... I know, how about I start us up?" Brook asked hopefully. The boy didn't give any objections, so Brook giggled in giddy schoolboy glee and cleared his throat, dancing and slicing to a beat only he could here.

Well, they encourage your complete cooperation...

Send ya roses when they think you need to smile!

More incisions, more pain, more enjoyment. He hoped Colin was enjoying this just as much as him, because he was beginning to lose himself down the dark, bleeding tears of skin.

I can't control myself because I don't know how, and...

Brook motioned to one of the cameras that had been watching the scene unfold the entire time. His mother would be so proud!

They love me for it honestly I'll be here for a while...

Back to business. This was the chorus, after all! Ah, nothing like making Colin feel at home while Brook felt the same. A garden contsructed from love, singing for comfort, what wasn't to love?

So give me blood, blood, gallons of the stuff!

Give it to me...

Give me all that she can drink and it will never be enough!

Give it to me...

So give me blood.... Blood... BLOOOOOOOOOD...

BLEED FOR ME!!!

The shard of glass plunged into Colin's abdomen.




Grab a glass because there's going to be a flood!
[+] spoiler
Jerry Fury - The man, the myth, the legend
Coleen Reagan - The girl who half-loved the world
[+] spoiler
V5 Roster:
Cody Patton : That bitch.
Sean Mulcahy : The world was kind to reprieve him of his fear...
Jessica Sanders: She hoped it would be quick...
[+] spoiler
20:17Sideliner:Toben and Ricky are like a sibling version of the Joker and Batman, only Batman is just as much of a mass murderer. He just hides it better.
19:58LaurelsHow does your dick smell like Fritos?
14:36 MimiI THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE FRIENDS > 14:36MimiI THOUGHT YOU REALLY LICKED HER
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T-Fox
Winner
Joined: April 16th, 2009, 7:40 pm

February 9th, 2011, 2:47 pm #43

The shadow and blackness of the forest before him was growing. Escape was in that darkness. Lying in wait, with it's warm embrace, just like Brook had been lying in wait in the darkness, the cobra, the temptation that wrought Adam and Eve to sin. His breath was heavy, and it just plain felt like something wasn't working right. His chest throbbed with every intake of cool breath, the summer's night air something so much more sinister than what those back in Bayview could conceive.

He heard Brook's voice behind him. It was still something jovial, something deranged. Hopefully that meant he had put enough distance between himself in the boy. Hopefully Brook was a poor shot.

Time to roll the dice. He heard a loud crack, and listened as the sounds of flapping wings; the birds who had the misfortune to make their nests near this ode to death. A violent ping as the bullet bounced from a tree a few feet away.

Another crack. Instantaneous fire. At first, as the second bullet struck home, he had thought the round had to be alight. His knee cracked with a sickening thud as his mouth opened, whatever noise that would come loudly forcing itself from his vocal cords as he fell like timber. The ground became closer and closer, but all he could focus on was the nova that had formed in his left leg.

Twack.

The pain that someone would normally feel from bouncing their face off of the earth didn't make itself known to him. His entire world was a small 9 millimeter wide spot in the center of his knee. He didn't even hear the crack as the third bullet rattled over where his head just was, zinging away into the forest proper.

He had only been a few feet away from salvation.

"Fuck's sake, Colin, you really are a kill-joy, aren't you?"

Brook sounded as though he was underwater. The pain had his full focus, but the boy still sounded as though he was directly over him. His eyes closed, panting in fear and pain. Even though the wound he held was not fatal itself, it spelled his doom. Colin was going to die. And yet though they flowed like water before, Colin's tears did not come.

That was at least until the unimaginable pain that echoed through his entire body. He felt Brook's hand wrap about his ankle, and then pulling. His hands clasped and clawed at the ground as he was dragged away, tears bursting from his eyes as the pained yells and screams came back.

And then suddenly it stopped. Back to a flame upon his leg, back to murky thought and pained speech.

"I mean, really, you were okay at first, but it's like you're TRYING to mess up my night!"

He felt a dull thud suddenly against the back of his head as Brook broke the weapon he had not seen upon him. Too much pain. There was a sudden blackness as Colin's eyes closed.

Not half a minute later, his eyes fluttered open again, his mind slowly registering every synapse in his body, yet again taking on the pain. He groaned, suddenly feeling a breeze on his torso.

"...had a pretty good run, you did, but tell me... isn't it better this way?"

His voice was soft, and the entire world seemed to spin. Unsure how, he had now ended up on his back. Turning his head, he saw a female face next to him, yet the features were melted, indistinct. His vision was having issues from whatever Brook had concussed him with.

His screams turned to silent tears, his face and the ground below him soaked literally with his blood, sweat, and tears. He felt his body buckling under the pain, under the stresses upon him. The shard of glass slicing one of his flanks, and then the other. Each cut elicited a yelp of pain, but not another aftershock beyond. His arm lit, just as his knee did before, as he felt it fall limp upon the ground.

"Colin, you sing, don't you? C'mon... why don't you cheer things up with one of those little showtunes of yours? D'awwww, Coliiiiin! Come on! Hey... I know, how about I start us up?"

He couldn't quite comprehend what Brook was saying through the pain. But he did register that... He was being taunted. He didn't respond, he wouldn't give his attacker, his killer the satisfaction. This just seemed to make him happier. And then, in an off key tune, Brook began to sing.

Each incision was so distracting, and the first few elicited yelps of pain, but as Colin finally felt his fight or flight kicking in, he felt the pain numbing about him. And he could once again concentrate... A crappy song, from a crappy artist. My Chemical Romance, an Emo Alternative Rock band. He frankly did not appreciate the notion entertained that he would sing something like this. Even by the man who was mutilating him.

His face felt warm as blood from his chest splattered upon his cheek, and he listened in awe to Brook's Acapulco jingle.

The line was ironic, but the pain was intense. The pain could not be ignored. Colin coughed and sputtered as that piece of glass pierced his chest, a scraping kind of pain as it drove home into a rib, skimming the bone. Touching a lung. His entire chest expanded in breath.

And then, there was a momentary respite. It was almost as if Brook had stopped to admire what he had been doing. Stopped to let it sink in. No, that latter would be a sane man's action.

And suddenly he found himself speaking. His voice was still so nasly, so disgusting from the head wound he suffered. Which would make this absolutely perfect.

"B-Brook... I'll sing with you."

His breath was labored as was his speech, everything hurt with each molecule of air moving throughout his body. He could feel his own heart beat, throbbing in his chest, his neck, his wrists, his legs.

"But... But you're forgetting a line."

Sharp pain. He took in a full breath, and prepared to sing once more. To give Brook a small show before he made his way into the night. No. He would not give this maniac the satisfaction.

He almost sounded as bad as the lead singer himself.

"The doctors and the nurses, they adore me so!"

"But it's really quite alarming... Cause I'm such an awful... Fuuuuuccckkkk!"

The curse was his battle cry, one of irony for his escape plan. He steeled himself, driving his one good limb remaining directly into Brook's groin; his right leg. He watched the boy buckled in two, his head coming closer, and that same foot swung up, connecting directly with his foe's Adam's apple. A satisfying squish, a loud yell. Unscathed from what he was doing? Not anymore. His loafer no longer resided upon his foot, and he wasn't quite sure where it went.

But that didn't matter. Suddenly, Brook was no longer atop him, yet his shard of glass still lie embedded within his chest. He couldn't feel the pain though. Just a dull throb from where the bullet lie lodged against his knee cap. Each step away, a world of hurt. How did he get on his feet? He couldn't remember. No time to complain.

The blackness of the forest was upon him. He would not take the moment to look back upon the garden from which he fled, his classmate who would surely kill so many more of his peers; none so deserving of the fate he offered but the assailant himself.

Colin was free from Brook's grasp. However, he knew he wouldn't last long. Every new wound was leaking stream after drop after faucet of blood. He couldn't feel it, but he knew in his mind that it hurt. He just needed to get away... He couldn't give Brook the satisfaction. He couldn't give Brook the body he wanted.

His only regret was that Tim would probably never see him again. Best though... For the state he was in. He didn't want his friend to see him like this.

The darkness of escape engulfed him.

((Colin Falcone continued in The Encore...))
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
[+] spoiler
B008 - Peter McCue - "Welcome home Katlin." - "DECEASED" - (Killcount: 0) - St. Paul, Minnesota [RANK: 82/276]
B011 - Chadd Crossen - "Janet... I forgive you for everything." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Northern Cliffs: Sometimes Sanctuary isn't That Far Away... [RANK: 242/276]
B018 - Colin Falcone - Damned if Danya could stop him; even in death. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Antonio Russo) - The Costal Woods: One Final Bow [RANK: 161/276]
G020 - Jacquard "Jackie" Broughten - She was never really alone at all. - DECEASED - (Killcount: 1 - Maria Santiago) - The Tunnels: Peripeteia [RANK: 106/276]
B100 - Rekka Saionji - "Real... men... don't cry." - DECEASED - (Killcount: 0) - The Tunnels: It Knows Nothing of Whim [RANK: 208/276]
What is wrong with you people?!
[+] spoiler
(7:07:51 PM) Little: "TAKE THAT MOM. YOU TRIED TO PROTECT ME, BUT I'VE BEEN TEN COCKS DEEP 24/SEV-UNNNNNN"
Rattlesnake: ...He says confidently after burning his roll null. I think Ciel just punched the RNG in the face.
Namira: Ciel: Punch RNG in the snout to establish superiority.
KamiKaze: I think Kyle enjoys the scent of poor people.
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MK Kilmarnock
Mr. Danya
Joined: April 14th, 2009, 10:12 pm

February 12th, 2011, 4:33 am #44

Sometimes there were things in life you simply couldn't control. It was only natural, being life, after all. Such an utter loss of power and control could still sting, holding the distinct bitter aftertaste of an unexpected and outlying failure. Colin had literally been lying face-down in the dirt just a little while ago, and beneath Brook's feet. To lose his grip after the ridiculous advantage he had was just... well, incredible. Such a powerful failure felt just like a shot to his crotch, coupled with a heavily restricted airway.

Oh, wait, those were just from the impacts made by Colin's foot.

Brook had collapsed onto the ground, laying on a thin carpet of grass and dead leaves. His gut hurt so much, which was unexpected to him. He had never taken a hit to the crotch that was hard as this, but he figured the pain would've stayed localized to his groin area or something. If only that were true; not only did his nuts feel like they were being dipped into a tank of pissed off pirahnas who also happened to be able to swim in lava, but his stomach had tied itself up into knots. Oooooh, and how those knots did squrim, pulling and tugging and trying to untangle themselves.

It wouldn't have been so bad if he had the ability to breathe properly, which his victim's foot had oh-so-politely revoked somewhere around the time it decided to give him a testicular exam. The toe of Colin's shoe had pegged him just above the collar and fit, of course, PERFECTLY underneath his chin for maximum damage potential. Brook wheezed and rolled onto his side, taking any advantage he could in his struggle for air. And of course, of fucking course, he caught a faceful of itchy and rattling dry leaves in his face as a reward.

In short, not only did he feel like a coin-op claw machine was stealing his junk whilst being force-choked by Darth Vader, but he also had a bunch of itchy leaves tickling his face. What the hell did he ever do to deserve this?

Tiffany was nearby, calling to him, soothing Brook with her promises of forgiveness. Maybe it was just what he wanted to hear her say, rather than her actually saying it, but he just wanted to believe that was what she actually said. Taking the time to stare at the girl summoning his presence and catch his breath allowed a few inklings of common sense to come back to Brook's damaged psyche, whispering to him.

She's not really there, you know, but do we really know anything?

We've already gone this far, so we might just go all the way, garden or not.

Is she there, though?


Brook would have none of this doubt. Evicting it from his mind for the time being, the boy groaned, croaked and whimpered in pain as he exhaustingly dragged himself inch-by-inch to the center of the garden. That's where the prone and sleeping form of Tiffany awaited him, offering him her chest as a nice and comfy pillow to rest on. Brook's head welcomed the embrace, his ear searching for a heartbeat from the cold body that he would only imagine.

When morning comes, I really should find some daisies... they'd look nice around her.

[+] spoiler
Jerry Fury - The man, the myth, the legend
Coleen Reagan - The girl who half-loved the world
[+] spoiler
V5 Roster:
Cody Patton : That bitch.
Sean Mulcahy : The world was kind to reprieve him of his fear...
Jessica Sanders: She hoped it would be quick...
[+] spoiler
20:17Sideliner:Toben and Ricky are like a sibling version of the Joker and Batman, only Batman is just as much of a mass murderer. He just hides it better.
19:58LaurelsHow does your dick smell like Fritos?
14:36 MimiI THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE FRIENDS > 14:36MimiI THOUGHT YOU REALLY LICKED HER
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MK Kilmarnock
Mr. Danya
Joined: April 14th, 2009, 10:12 pm

February 23rd, 2011, 9:50 pm #45

[DAY 6]

The resting lady of the garden lay in the spotlight of the sun, the two other bodies resting as her current court. There would be no morning dance, no festivities to add life. The garden would, if at least for only part of one day, rest as its creator had intended it to be... peaceful. But in bringing up the gardener of this magnificent place, one would expect him to be present; perhaps he would be tending to the prized maiden who slept in its center, or keeping up appearances around its inner sanctum, working to shape the land to her wishes.

Brook had, instead, set aside this day to wander along the outer fringe of the garden as he dared, having been banished to the comparitive darkness of the shaded forest. His temporary but painful exile was brought about by his failure yesterday with Colin, who had so disgraciously struggled and brought the curator of the garden down to his knees. The shame from having failed Tiffany burned on, only appeased by each flower that he carefully teased from the earth with only his hands or the occasional tool he could rouse up in his first aid kit.

After each wildflower was wrestled from the ground with a good deal of care and help from his fingertips or a tongue depressor, Brook would slowly set each flower back on the ground, assuming they had a suitable enough base of soil for their roots. Every so often a flower might struggle to hold the dirt in, requiring an emergency transplant to what he called the 'inner sanctum' - the ring-shaped barrier of flowers separating Tiffany from the rest of those common bodies.

"Sorry, Tiffany, I... yeah..." Brook sadly muttered, dropping to his knees and setting the flower into the small, arc-shaped ditch he had begun to dig. "There... you'll be alright now, just had to... to hurry so you don't, you know..." Brook whispered to the flower that he was patting into the ground.

A yellow lady's slipper... Cypripedium Calceolus, an incredibly lucky find. Brook had only seen a couple of them in his life thanks to their elusive nature, rarity, and protection from cultivation, but he had managed to find one here, as though Tiffany were leaving him a gift. It was a gift to tell him that she wasn't too angry with him for all that had happened.

"T-Thank you again..." He muttered with shaking hands as he settled the flower down. He couldn't cry, not like this... not in front of her. That would just be a disgrace to her memory. "I've been trying to... t-to make it up to you..."

There was no response.

Quickly rising to his feet and nodding in affirmation, Brook ran back out to the other tenderly plucked flowers. It was going to be a long day...
[+] spoiler
Jerry Fury - The man, the myth, the legend
Coleen Reagan - The girl who half-loved the world
[+] spoiler
V5 Roster:
Cody Patton : That bitch.
Sean Mulcahy : The world was kind to reprieve him of his fear...
Jessica Sanders: She hoped it would be quick...
[+] spoiler
20:17Sideliner:Toben and Ricky are like a sibling version of the Joker and Batman, only Batman is just as much of a mass murderer. He just hides it better.
19:58LaurelsHow does your dick smell like Fritos?
14:36 MimiI THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE FRIENDS > 14:36MimiI THOUGHT YOU REALLY LICKED HER
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Hollyquin
Winner
Joined: June 7th, 2010, 10:39 pm

March 8th, 2011, 3:15 am #46

[[Vivien Morin continued from Classy, Not Classic]]

Some nights go on forever, and usually that's because your boyfriend just broke up with you or you just got in a fight with your best friend or you failed a test or you wore white out of season and your friends wouldn't talk to you, not so much because you're spending the entire night wandering lost on an island fearing for your life at every moment. That was a pretty unusual experience for anyone, most of all Vivien Morin, who up until this last week had spent exactly zero time running around in the woods. Vivien was not an outdoorsy girl by any stretch of the imagination, and sleeping in the dirt every night (that one night in the sawmill notwithstanding) was absolute hell, or so he had thought until he really experienced absolute hell in the form of a dark, terrifying and depression-fueled all-nighter.

His thoughts were erratic, sparse even, as the majority of his mental energy seemed concentrated on the pain in his feet and shoulders, aching from walking and carrying all the crap that he just refused to give up, because if anything defined him, it was his clothes. He'd sooner die than give them up, though honestly at the rate he was going that seemed like a real possibility.

I knew she was dead. I heard the announcements. I knew! I knew and I still can't get the picture out of my head, can't stop thinking about it, is that what we're all going to end up as? That is SO unattractive, poor girl would be miserable if she could see herself- maybe she can, maybe she's in the afterlife or whatnot mad at me for not burying her...god, I should've done that, we were friends-

He thought for a moment about doubling back, burying her, but he was lost and confused and exhausted and likely physically incapable of digging a grave, and none of that registered with him for about ten minutes as he clumsily circled around and realized that he had no idea what direction he was heading in or indeed where he was. He thought about his map, but checking it told him nothing, considering that all around him was basically grass and more grass. He could see the ferris wheel of the fun fair in the distance, but he had no desire to head there. How much fun could it be, really?

...I probably look like crap right now, what if I die looking like this, the viewing audience is going to remember me as some ugly little cannon-fodder, I can't imagine anything worse...I need to fix my makeup the moment the sun comes out...I need to change. God, Carol...I'm sorry I'm so selfish, angel, I love you. I'm terrible. This is awful, how could I be thinking about myself right now, how could I be thinking about dying, I have a gun, I'll be fine, I will be, at least for a while, yeah...I really do need to do my makeup, though...I'm so glad internal monologues are are internal, Sylvie would think I was such a BITCH right about now...Gotta be good. I need inspiration. "What Would Gracie Wainwright Not Do?" WWGWD. I like it. I'll get it on a t-shirt...




Time passed. A lot of time. The only proof of that was the slowly rising sun and the slowly changing scenery and the slow failure of Vivien's ankles, unable to hold him up anymore. He collapsed beside a tree- there were trees now, when did they happen?- and immediately began digging through his bag for new clothes, eventually settling for a short yellow spaghetti-strap dress. Perfect for summer. Gorgeous as always. And it showed off his legs so well. He was incredibly grateful to find a pair of yellow flats in his bag- he was quite sure heels would kill him- and after quickly changing he returned his old dress and black flats to his bag, digging around for his mascara.


BZZZZZT-

Oh.


"Hey kids, it's Uncle Danya!"

...I don't want to hear this.

He really didn't. He was entirely sure for every name he heard a horribly damaged body would replace that person, their living, breathing self, in his memory, and he didn't want that. He could hardly remember Carol as something other than a corpse anymore and that hurt. He found the mascara, and his compact, and settled into the task of making himself beautiful again- not an easy task, what with the sleep-deprivation variety dark circles that were making themselves known.

"You'll be very happy indeed to hear that in a few short hours, you'll have officially have survived until the halfway mark of the game. That's provided, of course, that you aren't one of the three unlucky souls that have to die for you all to reach that point. Keep it up folks, I can't tell you how proud I am of your spirit."

He tried not to think about how relieved he was by that, how happy he was that over a hundred of his classmates were dead and he wasn't, and concentrated. He really did look like shit- the remnants of his makeup were puddled around his eyes and he had to lick his fingers and pick bits of black off his face. It was the furthest thing from attractive but definitely necessary, and once he had a clear canvas he concentrated on reapplying. It made him feel safer, somehow, more comfortable, more at home, being like this, sitting here putting on makeup, looking at his beautiful face in the mirror- even without the makeup, he was beautiful, that was just obviously so- here he was at home. Even completely deprived of sleep, sitting alone in the woods- he was almost okay. Almost normal. He kind of wanted to drag out the process, make this feeling last longer, but honestly he wasn't sure he co

"-Aislyn McCreery's daddy did not turn up at the eleventh hour to save her from Kimber-"

"OW!"

He shrieked as he stabbed himself in the eye with the mascara wand. His eyes teared up as he furiously wiped away his now utterly-fucked-up mascara, repairing the damage, only slightly aware that the water flowing from his eyes was maybe partially from the pain but mostly from the name that had came out of Danya's mouth and that all efforts made to put his face on now would be utterly invalidated by the saltwater flow. He was doomed to twin black trails down his cheeks and why was he caring about this when Aislyn McCreery was dead.

He was grateful that Danya didn't give any details. His mind didn't know what to picture. He settled for white noise and stumbled back off into the forest.

God, Kimberly?! Kimberly Nguyen?! She was a fucking...fucking creepy little thing but why, why my Aislyn?!

He was crying nonstop and those mascara trails were making themselves known. He sniffled loudly. Cute.

There were woods and there were woods and there were woods. He kept himself moving because as long as he was walking, as long as his brain was distraction by the pain he felt, he didn't have to think about this too much. He could keep pretending that he'd see his friends again and he could keep pretending everything was okay as long as he was still walking, so he walked for an eternity, or more like half an hour. He wasn't really sure- pain has this way of dulling your sense of time, but eventually he saw a clearing in the distance, and that seemed like a logical destination. Honestly "logical destination" right now translated directly to "place to curl into a fetal position", but whatever. Vivien was okay with that. Sometimes you need a good cry even if you're not sure you'd even stop. That was Vivien's logic, anyway. He picked up the pace until









oh.










"Holy crap..."


being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.
[+] spoiler
[V4] ESCAPED:
[x] Garrett Hunter [B138] [KC: 0] // Sitting at home, figuring some shit out.
"If there's anything I can do...anywhere I can fight, send me there. I want to help." // ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕

[V4] DECEASED:
[x] Hayley Kelly [G103] [KC: 7] // RANK 33
I don't want to go. // ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥
[x] Jasper-Declan MacDermott [B129] [KC: 0] // RANK 93
Perhaps...it was worth it, after all. // ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂
[x] Vivien Morin [B062] [KC: 0] // RANK 131
Goodnight, Sylvie. // ♀ - ♀ - ♀ - ♀ - ♀
[x] Maria Santiago [G110] [KC: 0] // RANK 258
"So...I guess...I'm going to heaven after all..." // ✝ - ✝
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MK Kilmarnock
Mr. Danya
Joined: April 14th, 2009, 10:12 pm

March 8th, 2011, 5:59 am #47

Flowers were things that had to be handled with tender and loving care. In Brook's line of work, in his life's calling, he had to train his own hands to resist their own force and grasp with a gardener's precision. Under the care of those hands of his, plants seemed to thrive. He was a nurturer of life, a cultivator of ecology. That was why every time Brook stooped down to coax a flower from its home in order to move it to its far more glorious one, and he saw the dried and caked blood on those hands of his, something felt like it had jarred loose and fallen out of place. How the hell did that blood get there?

Every time this happened, the results were the same. No truly coherent thought sparked in Brook's head, and with a tired sigh, he resumed his duties. For this next trip, three flowers were to be transplanted, but they were not nearly as delicate as the lady slippers. No, if he really had to, these could sit for a little while if he had more important matters to attend to. Not that there was really much of anything more important than what Tiffany was telling him to do. The penance for having failed to save her, but the reward of eternal company. He wouldn't give it up for anything.

Still, his hands... those hands of his, now coated in dirt just as heavily as the blood, but the dirt could not catch up with the stains on the rest of him. Wasn't he supposed to be afraid of the liquid in his duties?

Yes... yes, he was supposed to, and he still was. There should have been no doubt there, of course. But just because he was afraid of it did not mean that he couldn't derive a certain measure of life-giving enjoyment and pleasure from it. In slathering himself in his fear and personally ensuring Tiffany's never-ending survival, he found some self-fulfillment that would release his soul from whatever damage the blood may have been doing to it. Maybe. ... Maybe.

Such existential questions were meaningless to somebody of low importance like Brook, though. Tiffany had blocked him off, chained him to her. Or had he chained himself to her in the creation of the monument as a profession of his love to her, one that he never managed to make when she was awake? It hurt to think about, and in more ways than one. It wasn't hard to tell that he was clearly being punished for something, though. He couldn't have been the good guy... but he wasn't the bad one, right? For him to have been doing th-

Okay, what the fuck was that!?

Something was out there. He definitely heard something, the parting of branches across a path and the yielding of leaves and shrubs alike, as somebody was doubtlessly just prancing through the woods as though it belonged to them. Well, the Mighty Zinnia would speak for the trees if he had to, and it was just as well. The bodies around here weren't.... enough. With Colin having selfishlessly pulled himself somewhere else to die, the only evidence of his death happened to be a disconnected message over the skyward voice (Brook had searched in vain to locate just where the voice had been coming from, finding it to be irritating as hell). There needed to be more vanguards for the mistress of the garden, and if somebody was volunteering... well, that was fine and dandy.

Leaving the few flowers where they lie at the clearing's edge, Brook darted deeper into the woods, finding a few thick budges to excuse his way into and wait for his uninvited guest. It wouldn't take long for them to show up, either, though trees obstructed the mystery meat's person's features from Brook's vantage point, revealing only the most basic of forms. About the most he could determine was that they were human, fair skinned and female. Yeah, very helpful observations. This left him with no other choice than to make the bold approach. Drawing his trusty, gaudy pistol which had helped him so much with his gardening thus far, Brook approached the girl from behind in a manner that he could only wish was perfectly stealthy. He made up for his lacking stealth, however, by the sheer speed at which he approached and made his presence known.

"Hey there! I see you've found my garden... I can give you the tour, if you'd like! You're going to be here a while, after all."
[+] spoiler
Jerry Fury - The man, the myth, the legend
Coleen Reagan - The girl who half-loved the world
[+] spoiler
V5 Roster:
Cody Patton : That bitch.
Sean Mulcahy : The world was kind to reprieve him of his fear...
Jessica Sanders: She hoped it would be quick...
[+] spoiler
20:17Sideliner:Toben and Ricky are like a sibling version of the Joker and Batman, only Batman is just as much of a mass murderer. He just hides it better.
19:58LaurelsHow does your dick smell like Fritos?
14:36 MimiI THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE FRIENDS > 14:36MimiI THOUGHT YOU REALLY LICKED HER
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Hollyquin
Winner
Joined: June 7th, 2010, 10:39 pm

March 8th, 2011, 5:44 pm #48

White noise. White noise. Dammit, please, white noise.

Vivien's tears dried up almost instantly. Later he'd wonder if that was some sort of reflex, some instinct that told him that his tears would be desperately needed in the near future and shouldn't be wasted on another moment of grief. That grief was forced into a corner of his mind while the white noise flowed through him, preventing any vocal reaction to this...this. He couldn't think of descriptions around the white noise, though names floated through his mind as his eyes unconsciously and unwilling scanned the scene, names like Ridley and Raine, names he knew because he knew all of the names. He really didn't know either of them well, honestly, and now he never would and he felt kind of guilty which was a weird feeling given how it was fighting with other emotions like disgust and fear and white noise which wasn't an emotion but whatever even and those feelings distracted him for the longest time from noticing anything else and

What is this? A...a garden? Who's keeping a garden here? It looks...new. Like someone's still taking care of it. Who the hell- what kind of priorities-

Something else, too. someone else, rather. He could see someone lay farther into the garden, farther than he wanted to walk- he needed to leave this place, his non-white-noise-type instincts were very clear about that- but he couldn't see who it was, if they were alive or dead, even, though anyone who'd lie in peace in a place like this clearly had something very very very wrong with them, and he was kind of too lost, thinking, to really notice that someone was coming up behind him-

"Hey there!"

Vivien shrieked. actually shrieked. He wasn't sure whether to be pleased or embarrassed by the sound that come from his mouth, as it meshed nicely with his image of himself as the damsel in distress, but it also completely eliminated whatever remained of his dignity. He whirled around, his finger reflexively pulling the trigger of a gun that was currently sitting pretty in his daypack. He realized exactly how defenseless he was as he stared into the face of

"I see you've found my garden... I can give you the tour, if you'd like! You're going to be here a while, after all."

-Brook. Liam Brooks! Totally inconceivable, that it would be Brook. Again, it wasn't like he knew him particularly well, but he wasn't a bad guy by any means, Vivien knew that much. He was a sweetheart, actually. What he didn't remember was this glint in the boy's eyes, the catch in his voice, and the blood on his hands, all of which screamed danger danger from inside white noise. Wasn't he...Haven't I heard his name? On the announcements? Yeah, yeah I know I have-and up to this moment he wouldn't have been able to say if he'd been killed or a killer, but really, his presence kind of answered that for him.

A lot of words sprung to mind, words like I have a gun and you don't want to do this and please don't hurt me, I didn't even finish my makeup but none of them made it completed the journey from his mind to his vocal cords. His hand wanted for his gun but his limbs were wholly paralyzed by fear. His hand twitched. The other boy's words registered, possibly, at least a little. Danger danger, like he needed another warning. All he really managed was

"Urk."

and he mentally chastised himself for being fucking pathetic.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.
[+] spoiler
[V4] ESCAPED:
[x] Garrett Hunter [B138] [KC: 0] // Sitting at home, figuring some shit out.
"If there's anything I can do...anywhere I can fight, send me there. I want to help." // ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕

[V4] DECEASED:
[x] Hayley Kelly [G103] [KC: 7] // RANK 33
I don't want to go. // ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥
[x] Jasper-Declan MacDermott [B129] [KC: 0] // RANK 93
Perhaps...it was worth it, after all. // ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂
[x] Vivien Morin [B062] [KC: 0] // RANK 131
Goodnight, Sylvie. // ♀ - ♀ - ♀ - ♀ - ♀
[x] Maria Santiago [G110] [KC: 0] // RANK 258
"So...I guess...I'm going to heaven after all..." // ✝ - ✝
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MK Kilmarnock
Mr. Danya
Joined: April 14th, 2009, 10:12 pm

March 9th, 2011, 5:10 am #49

Brook had managed to convince himself that, when it came to his moment-to-moment mannerisms, he just made most of this shit up as he went along. If one put any thought into it, they'd find that's probably how many teenagers do things, no matter their general curriculum of activites: going to school, joining a sports team, eviscerating everything that moves. That implied, of course, that Brook had time to think, however. Just moments ago, the world had a pallete of blue and he only had to focus on doing what was asked of him, in peace with all he took under his care. Now, the world was red once more, and his soul had filled with so much vigor in such a short space of time. He'd be treating this side of his life just as passionate as the side he had led only moments before.

The person before him was just so ambiguous... at least in the sense of who they were, though something felt rather 'ambiguous' in a different manner, but that was neither here nor there. For now, he was just so entertained by the reaction he was getting from his sudden little greeting. Shit, if only Colin had entertained him this much! It was true that his last guest had been a major downer before he left to rudely curl up and die somewhere else, and left him with little to no sense of fun at all. This time, though, he could feel it... it would be different. If Tiffany was already mad at him, he might as well just have the fucking time of his life.

"Hee... not the articulate sort eh, cutie? Well... that's just fine, I suppose. The place speaks for itself! I mean... come on!" Brook gestured back to the wonderful place, which his new toy would be calling home very soon for the rest of her life. ... Her, right? Or... no? He dove through the tattered book of his memory and tried to search for who the hell this person was, but the name was just lost on him for now. I'm sure with a little prying, he'd get it from him/her/it eventually. More pressing was the concern of why this girl had a ridiculously flat chest, and a telling bulge between...

Oh.

Wow... this was good. This was TOO fucking good. A bit confusing for sure, but it wasn't every day that a garden could be adorned by a crossdresser. The benefits of beauty to complement Tiffany, AND she wouldn't be jealous! First, however, he'd have to twist the 'guy's' arm a little to get him to stay. Metaphorically, of course... that wonderful stunt with Leila would just get old if he tried it again. Instead, with the little mousey fidgeting and looking at Brook like some crazed killer, he closed the distance between the two. This person would-

Vivien.

"Vivien! Geez, I almost forgot your name!" Brook chuckled, flicking himself in the temple for having forgotten. The moment of levity over, he resumed removing any distance that may have stood between the two of them. He liked his inductions to be intimate and informative, letting the whole world know just what kind of person would be soaking the plants. Brook wanted to know all about Vivien and his strangeness, inside and out, a notion that he played with in the recesses of his mind as he rubbed the unrifled barrel of the liberator against Vivien's breastbone.

"I always wondered... are those clothes comfortable for you? I wouldn't know, not being a freak..." Brook giggled. "But no, really. I want to know, considering how much time you'll be spending in them!"

Something in his own sentences spurred him onward, pulling at the levers that controlled the floodgates and held everything back. Every time somebody entered this place, for whatever reason, the strain would just grow and grow. So much blood, even behind unbroken skin and coloring the flesh, and it all conspired against him. The fear played its best hands against Brook's lungs, hastening his breathing. His muscles quivered, a few joints cracked.

Get it all out. GET IT ALL OUT.

Before he knew it, his gun arm had flexed its bicep, and his right elbow came flying up at Vivien's chin.
[+] spoiler
Jerry Fury - The man, the myth, the legend
Coleen Reagan - The girl who half-loved the world
[+] spoiler
V5 Roster:
Cody Patton : That bitch.
Sean Mulcahy : The world was kind to reprieve him of his fear...
Jessica Sanders: She hoped it would be quick...
[+] spoiler
20:17Sideliner:Toben and Ricky are like a sibling version of the Joker and Batman, only Batman is just as much of a mass murderer. He just hides it better.
19:58LaurelsHow does your dick smell like Fritos?
14:36 MimiI THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE FRIENDS > 14:36MimiI THOUGHT YOU REALLY LICKED HER
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Hollyquin
Winner
Joined: June 7th, 2010, 10:39 pm

March 10th, 2011, 1:13 am #50

"Hee... not the articulate sort eh, cutie?"

Some small, disturbingly unaffected portion of his mind appreciated the compliment. Said portion was small because the rest of his mind was distracted by the white noise with an undercurrent of oh my god I'm going to die and figured the only thing keeping that undercurrent from overwhelming him was some hidden instinct, some deep need to keep a level head. To pretend the last of his dignity hadn't left him when the boy first appeared. To not mess up his makeup any worse than it already was.

Leave a beautiful cor- no no no don't THINK like that. Do that and he's won already. You can't just give up-

He was hardly hearing his own thoughts. Again, it was all white noise. White noise and paralytic terror.

"Well... that's just fine, I suppose. The place speaks for itself! I mean... come on!" It was almost funny how there was absolutely nothing wrong, no fault that could be found with the words themselves, and yet Vivien felt himself shiver. His voice. It was so fucking wrong. And yeah, the place does speak for itself, and it says crazy things. Brook was, like, a fucking gardening freak, right? So this has to be his handiwork. Why would he waste his time...I mean, it could've been pretty, but the bodies are kind of ruining the flow-

An unreasonably optimistic thought occurred to him. Maybe that's why he's so...er, upset? Maybe someone killed people in his garden and he's...upset that it got messed up? He put the memory of the boy on the announcements out of his mind for a moment because denial was considerably less horrifying than the alternative. Yeah, maybe...maybe he just-

It was around then he managed to tear his eyes from Brook's for just long enough to see the gun.

E-eh...

Vivien did not like guns, except when there was only one and it was in his hand. This gun was in the hands of an obvious psycho and, if he was going to be honest with himself for a moment (somehow he figured this was no longer the time for denial), the killer of at least two. None of those details spelled much good for a lot of things, like his manicure (actually apparently that got fucked up days ago...how did I not notice? this is horrible, I should have nail polish, maybe later) or his dress or his heart that was now beating out of control, filling a momentary silence.

Suddenly there was no space in between them and Vivien suddenly became aware of just how tall Liam Brooks was.

"Vivien! Geez, I almost forgot your name!" How does he know my- well, I mean, I guess everyone knows my name, yeah, forgot about that, b- irrelevant, irrelevant, totally irrelevant. Get your head back in this, Vi, you can do this, you can. Just-

The feeling of cold metal pressing against your chest tends to put a damper on your thought process. He considered a lot of possible reactions to this turn of events, like screaming or crying or curling into fetal position, but managed somehow to keep his visible reaction down to a flinch.

"I always wondered... are those clothes comfortable for you? I wouldn't know, not being a freak..."

Vivien's eyes narrowed and at least for a moment he forgot where he was and what was pointed at him.

He was used to this. Of course he was used to it, it was impossible to not be used to the names, the obvious taunts, the faggot and the pussy and the homo and the ever-present freak, but he didn't let it get to him. He couldn't let it get to him. He'd have cracked a long time ago if he had and honestly I'm better than them! Better than that. Better, so why am I upset about it now? Maybe I just don't want to die, like this. Being the freak. Vivien the freak.

Don't think about it too much. As long as he's talking that's good for you. Let him rant, it happens all the time, the villain talks too much and gives the damsel in distress time to...be rescued.

Okay, so it's not a perfect metaphor, but...


His limbs, it seemed, were regaining function. His hand crept towards his bag- it was open, still, he realized, and now it was only a matter of who shot first.

He felt Chicago lyrics running through his mind and wow, that is not normal, Vi.

"But no, really. I want to know, considering how much time you'll be spending in them!"

God, that sounded bad. Really bad. Really very not good at all but Vivien was ready for him as his small hand curled around the pistol's grip, still in his bag.

"Br-"


CRACK.








he buzzed with white noise. his lip split. there goes my face. something'd cracked. what cracked? not a bone. he tasted blood. he'd hit the floor. get up, get up, get up, he's going to kill you, GET UP he lay prone, paralyzed, not because he'd broken anything, not because he couldn't move




because he'd realized that crack was the gun he'd lost grip of.because he'd moved his hand to raise it just at the right time for it to be knocked from his grip. it sailed through the air, hit a rock-



CRACK, and Vivien was not dead, but he might as well be.





he'd been hit before. he'd split lips before.







but he'd never, ever been this afraid.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.
[+] spoiler
[V4] ESCAPED:
[x] Garrett Hunter [B138] [KC: 0] // Sitting at home, figuring some shit out.
"If there's anything I can do...anywhere I can fight, send me there. I want to help." // ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕ - ♕

[V4] DECEASED:
[x] Hayley Kelly [G103] [KC: 7] // RANK 33
I don't want to go. // ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥ - ♥
[x] Jasper-Declan MacDermott [B129] [KC: 0] // RANK 93
Perhaps...it was worth it, after all. // ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂ - ❂
[x] Vivien Morin [B062] [KC: 0] // RANK 131
Goodnight, Sylvie. // ♀ - ♀ - ♀ - ♀ - ♀
[x] Maria Santiago [G110] [KC: 0] // RANK 258
"So...I guess...I'm going to heaven after all..." // ✝ - ✝
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