Ciel
Mr. Danya
Joined: May 26th, 2007, 12:17 am

September 23rd, 2010, 5:02 pm #11

(Kitty Gittschall continued from Break Up And Break Down)

She kept fading in and out of conciousness. Trees vanished, rocks appeared. Kitty gathered that she was moving. She didn't have her pack. She had something in her hand. The bat, Alex's bat, the one that he used on her shoulder. Images of her fight kept rushing to her head like a fountain, like some kind of terrible reminder. Kitty felt a migrane coming on. She closed her eyes.

She was alive right? Yes, she was sure of that. Hell wouldn't be so cold. Or dark.

It took Kitty the rest of the night to figure out exactly where she was and what had happened. Her mind was still very much out of whack but she managed to figure something out. Roland had seen Kitty fighting with Alex, saved her from certain doom and was now dragging her, well, somewhere. That was about as far as Kitty could surmise. Everything else was just a blur. She didn't know where Roland was taking her but she hoped that it wasn't the Fun Faire. Anywhere but the damn Fun Faire.

So not everything had been for nothing. She had found a partner, one that was more capable than Anna. Kitty felt that things were looking up.

Until she realized Roland was carrying an eviscerated corpse around.

She didn't notice it for the few hours that Roland had been carrying her. Kitty finally saw the corpse once Roland had decided to stop carrying her, and it took her a few more minutes to piece it all together. Embarrassing. Anyone with half a brain would have noticed. Kitty wasn't sure how to feel about being carried by a vicious killer. She felt disgusted especially, even a little impressed in the sense that a thin sword like that could cut someone up like that. She had missed the announcement so she didn't know specifics, and frankly she didn't want specifics. It was bad enough having a mental image of Robert with his chest blown open. She didn't need to know the process.

This begged the question. Robert wasn't the one attacking her - Alex was. So if Roland did that to Robert, then what the hell did he do to Alex?

As far as she was concerned, she didn't want to know that either. She faded out again.

The next time she came to Roland was screaming in a voice that was loud enough to shatter glass. She opened her eyes, letting out a tiny groan. Where were they? There were still trees. A forest. With rocks. Maybe. Kitty huffed. She still wasn't thinking straight. Damn it. Kitty was still holding the bat. A death grip. Like Alex was about to come out and clock her with a big boulder.

Kitty watched Roland for the next five minutes. She wasn't sure what the hell he had been screaming about, but it seemed important enough to wake her up. Kitty grumbled. A raccoon leaped out of the pit... grave? Was that a grave? Kitty grumbled a second time. The guy had to dig a grave.

Now look at where you got yourself Kitty. You're stuck with an idiot killer who's in pity party mode. I mean, who the hell gets spooked by a raccoon?

That was her pet peeve with most killers on this show. Why did they angst? It was understandable that they'd be upset. Even so, it always felt like a cry for attention whenever someone started to rant in front of the cameras like crazed loons, going on and on about how they hated Danya and how they were innocent. Yes, it was all the game's fault. Don't judge them. The game put a gun up to their heads and told them to kill kids. Well whoop-de-fucking-do. This was a life or death situation but you still had free will. You didn't have to kill. There were other ways of surviving. Kitty just assumed that if you killed someone, you killed someone. You wouldn't be happy about but at least you're guaranteed to fight another day. Tears were for when you won, feelings were for when everyone else was dead. If you wanted to win, you'd have to abandon everything you've ever known, every human emotion you've ever felt and just go on instinct. Play smart.

Kitty was a hypocrite though. She made a dumb move and almost got herself killed.

The girl shuddered as the images came back. Pain ran through her arm. A lesson in how not to play.

She let the bat drop to the ground as she idly pushed the hair out of her face. Willow orbs glared at Roland's slovenly appearance. He was looking terrible hours before, but to say that digging the grave had been an improvement on his appearance would be the lie of the century. He looked like he had slept next to a meat grinder and decided to roll around in a pig pen. She felt the need to turn away before she got sick. However Kitty wanted to look. So she did.

Roland vomited, and Kitty wished she had turned around. Roland rolled on his back and Kitty finally made her appearance known.

"Good morning," she rasped, unsure of what time it was.

It almost felt rude not to get up and help him off of the ground, but Kitty was neither in the mood or the condition. She shifted against the tree. Kitty gave the tattered boy another look.

"You look like shit Roland. How long were you digging that?"
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Jonny
Leader
Joined: December 31st, 2008, 7:54 am

September 24th, 2010, 8:08 pm #12

Allen Birkman's chilling words resonated through Julian's mind. "I guess," the wild-eyed boy had said with an eerie quietness as a dark smile played across his face, "Oh, I don't know.". His seemingly benign words belied the edge of playful murder that Julian could hear in his voice. The words... were they a warning? Were they a promise? His hands- nothing in them right now, but was he clenching a fist? Reaching for a gun? Was it already too late? Did Julian only have seconds left before Allen would strike?

Yeah, Allen Birkman was a boring harmless dork and that was pretty much all there was to say on that topic.

Andrea was different. For one, she wouldn't stop fucking talking- You can't shut your mouth for a second and he can't string a sentence together, hmmmm you should probably just start kissing right now because this is a match made in heaven- and for two, what she was saying was actually kinda worth listening to. A big SotF fan, huh. Though since he hadn't written her name down in his notebook (for whatever reason), and since it seemed pretty impossible for her to have killed someone and hidden all the evidence in the brief period since the announcements, it looked like she wasn't the bloodthirsty sociopath kind of SotF fan.

Sooooo... there are other kinds, I guess?

It was definitely a question worth considering, since Julian hadn't exactly given much thought to his horrible unfair prejudices against that type of kid. He'd always just sort of assumed that nobody actually watched SotF except for a handful of sociopathic shut-ins praying to God almighty every night that they'd see some gore or some tits (but not combining the two, that'd just be weird). It just seemed a tiny bit fucked up to go around rooting for and lionizing kids who were essentially serial killers. Like you got your t-shirt with a serial killer's face on the front and a list of all his victims on the back, and Julian got his too, and since there are nine victims' names on Julian's shirt but only seven than yours, that means that Julian is way cooler than you and you best pony up your lunch money right now.

See, Danya, this is where you fucked up. You put me on your death island when instead I could be designing t-shirts for you. Don't come crying to my dead ass when your revenue streams are completely fucked, you brought this on yourself.

But hey well look here was this girl who was talking about SotF and her strategies and her plans and how all the other kids were watching it and guess what, she seemed like she was pretty much alright! Well, no, Julian kinda wished that she'd given a better reason for not joining Clio and Kris and friends in the Murderous Kids' Club. You can't exactly crack open a King James Version and find Thou shalt not kill, for it is a completely fucked strategy once thou performest the risk/reward assessment.

But nobody's perfect. And it's a bit of a dick move to hate on someone for what's actually a pretty commendable moral decision. So instead of busting out some great vengeance and furious anger, Julian asked the question that'd been bugging him for a while now. "Aight, sounds good. But ah, before you get into your plan and all," since if her track record was any indication, Andrea would probably take until noon detailing Step One of Twelve, "mind telling me why you watched SotF? Not judgin' you or nothing, just curious." A beat, a grin. "Unless you got some stupid reason like you thought it was all fake, in which case I'mma judge you pretty hard."
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Crash
Winner
Joined: February 12th, 2008, 5:15 am

September 25th, 2010, 11:46 pm #13

"Hello?"

Claire just about jumped out of her skin. Her eyes shot around her like sentries, scoping out her surroundings for any sign of where the voice had come from. She couldn't immediately tell; the early morning light was blinding in some spots, and yet the forest still provided enough shade to cover and conceal others completely. She was in a tricky situation. Her one (and seemingly only) ally was gone, she was exposed, and someone was calling to her from somewhere she couldn't make them out.

"Put your weapon down-..."

"He saw it? Fuck."

Claire's grip began to loose on the magnum, and with hesitation she slowly kneeled down towards the earth. Her mind raced to figure out exactly who could be calling her, but she was having trouble recognizing the voice. More importantly, she wasn't sure whether or not it was someone with good intent, or one of the people she'd already heard about on that sick announcement. Was Ivan really a killer? Was he about to come eviscerate the poor girl who'd helped him to the nurse's office not weeks before?

"No, it didn't sound like h-..."

"Show yourself!"

...Wait, what? He couldn't see her? But that didn't make any sense. Didn't he just ask her to...?

"He's not talking to you, dumbass."

...Claire made a mental note to thank her inner voice later, even if it was being a feisty little twat.

Relaxing a bit and re-gripping her gun, she stood back up and began to glance towards the treeline, attempting to make out where the voice was coming from. That feat didn't take her long, as loud obscenities gave way to the distant figure of a boy, whom she couldn't recognize from this distance. He was on the other side of the tower, and she was thankfully far enough away that she could duck behind a tree and hopefully avoid being seen.

"Come on, Julian...hurry the fuck up..."
v4 Characters:

G23: Claire Lambert: Property of the Fabulous Mr. Toben

v3 Characters:

B65: Dorian Ibanescu: Coastline

Deceased:

B57 - Jeff Marontate: Cleaved
B120: Jim Middleton: Pummeled
G61: Anna Grout: Submitted
G62: Andrea Vanlandingham: Martyred
G39 Alexis Machina: Crushed
G23: Trish McCarroll: Defeated


natlei was sleeping in her bed when someone came thru her window "get away rapist" she said still half asleep and hit one of them in the head with her liucky frying pan then went back tyo bed them men the injected her with a sedative and carried her off
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JamesRenard
Leader
Joined: May 22nd, 2010, 1:37 pm

September 28th, 2010, 6:16 pm #14

'Sheesh, someone's got a high opinion about herself,' Allen exasperatedly thought, raising his eyebrows as Andrea starting replying to the new arrival, stating about 'how great she was' of all things. He found himself having to wipe the expression off his face very quickly though when Andrea turned back to him and responded, rather harshly in his opinion, to his earlier query.

"Hey, I wasn't going to," Allen defended himself. "Like giving you a lecture's going to change anything anyway, we're stuck here on this island and there's nothing we can do about it."

Well that probably put a dampener on the conversation, reminding everyone on where they were and what they were meant to do. Andrea sat back down and begun talking again, but Allen didn't know if she was talking to him or Mr. New Guy standing over by the door.

'Pah, you say we're lucky? Suuuure... oh right, that IS a fairly good point, I guess,' Allen thought. He had next to no SotF knowledge or experience, so being with someone who at least knew what the hell was going on, that was something to smile about at least, given their situation. That small piece of good news was immediately followed by another, one that seemed a lot better. 'A plan, you say? What kind of plan? Like an escape plan or something?'

It was remarkable how that simple four-letter P-word could fill someone up with so much hope, and for possibly the first time in days, Allen dared to smile. "What kind of plan did you have in mind?" he asked, sounding intrigued by Andrea's words. Never matter that the whole thing sounded too good to be true (and it probably was), there was no harm in believing that they could get get out alright, if only to give his morale a much-needed boost after all that had happened the day before.

And then that other guy went and opened his mouth and started responding to Andrea. Okay, so he was curious about why she watched it (and so was Allen to an extend, but he decided to keep his mouth shut for now), but the way he was asking her, it just sounded so... so obnoxious. Everyone and their mother had to know by now that SotF wasn't just a reality TV show in which everything was faked. Hell, Allen didn't watch it and even he knew the deaths, violence and bloodshed were 100% real. 'Wait, that's the reason I don't watch it in the first place,' he remembered.

As much as the male was beginning to annoy him, Allen wasn't about to call him out just yet and so chose to ignore him altogether. It was too soon since his arrival to judge his character, and he had no idea if saying something like that was going to piss the boy off enough for him to start going crazy with that sword of his. And Allen really wasn't in the mood for getting impaled anytime soon.
Let's show that private threads aren't necessary! I pledge not to start any private threads on island in V5. If I started a thread, you are welcome to join it.

V5 Characters
B006: Darren Fox - Weapon(s): Lego "Creator" bucket /// Status: ALIVE /// Current location: Meltdown (Nuclear Plant - The Reactors)
Thread chain: O | O=O=O | O=O=

B030: Luca Johanssen - Weapon(s): N/A /// Status: DECEASED /// Body's location: Leap of Faith (Northern Coast - The Zipline Attraction) /// Rank: 134/152
Thread chain: O | O=O
[+] spoiler
Sandra Ortega: Daughter of a teacher, sister of a delinquent, wants to succeed

[+] spoiler
G109: Miranda Merchant - Weapon(s): N/A /// Status: DECEASED /// Body's location: Hearing is Believing (The Woods: Inland) /// Rank: 227/276
Thread chain: O=O=O=O

B146: Marco Stonecastle (adopted from Danetrix) - Weapon(s): N/A /// Status: DECEASED /// Body's location: Breaking Down the Wall (The Warehouse) /// Rank: 177/276
Thread chain: O=O=O=O

B145: Garry "Garou" Villette - Weapon(s): N/A /// Status: DECEASED /// Body's location: Burn On (The Mountain) /// Rank: 44/276
Thread chain: O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O

B141: Saul Fetteralf (adopted from Jackson) - Weapon(s): N/A /// Status: DECEASED /// Body's location: Dead-End Scenario (The Parish) /// Rank: 15/276
Thread chain: O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O

B121: Allen Birkman - Weapon(s): N/A /// Status: RESCUED /// Location: Four-Act Structure /// "Rank": 76/276
Thread chain: O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O

[+] spoiler
20:44BetaKnight I do have more fucks than you do. I've been tending my fuck farm.

Cards Remaining (V5) - HERO: 1 /// SWAP: 0
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Little Boy
Contender
Joined: June 12th, 2010, 12:28 am

October 1st, 2010, 12:00 am #15

Roland turned his gaze towards Kitty, staring blanking at the girl for a moment. He could only imagine how he looked, but it was one of the least of his priorities at the moment. A sudden wave of tiredness seized him, he felt fatigue setting in. The adrenaline was gone and he yearned once more for sleep. Raising his hand he wiped his mouth with the back of his palm, easing his way up, regarding Kitty.

Does she know what happened..? Does she know... Robert..?

Roland didn't really care. He felt tired to his core, and was beginning to regret staying up. No, that wasn't right. He was beginning to regret waking up in the first place. He frowned as he cleared his throat.

I can't be already thinking like that. Strategy is still everything. I've got to rest true, but that doesn't mean I'm about to blow my brains out.

He was vaguely aware of Kitty's question and he slowly looked over towards the girl, unsure of how to phrase a response.

Fuck it. Lying won't get you anywhere. Thinking won't get you anywhere at the moment. You might have something yet to learn Roland..

He nodded slowly.

"I've been digging most of the night. It wouldn't be right, leaving him out in the open to rot- not after what happened. So I buried him, said some words. You're welcome to do the same if you'd like."

He glanced over towards the hole, he couldn't exactly see Robert from his position, but he knew he was there. No matter how much he could imagine otherwise, Robert would be there, forever.

I killed him.

I wasn't wrong.


He could feel his eyes drooping, even as he tried to continue speaking. He could feel his brain slowing down, and he welcomed it. He yearned for his life before, his strict schedule, his daily goals. It was all bearing down on him, and he couldn't afford to break. Kitty would need him. Hell, Dave and Isabel still needed him.

"I... I think I need to lay down, to put it rather bluntly." Roland said, standing and making his way to his pack. "I can't operate like this, certainly can't protect you, let alone myself."

Digging through his pack, Roland pulled out a blanket and pushing it against the base of a nearby tree, he made a makeshift pillow. He adjusted Charlene, digging into his side before pausing. He looked up towards Kitty before pulling the blade out, still stained with Robert's blood. Giving the blade a thoughtful look, Roland shrugged and tossed it into the center of the clearing.

"Fuck it. If that won't make you trust me, you can leave now. I get rather cranky when I'm tired, so I'm not going to let this sleep deprivation progress any further. We're relatively out of the way here, you could scout around, get something to eat, whatever. I'm going to sleep. Hope to see you when I wake up."

Laying down on his makeshift pillow, Roland raised his head, massaging his temple. He could feel a headache coming on, and he scowled at the thought of playing with another disadvantage. He ran his fingers over the bump on his forehead, from where Isabel had hit him with her trumpet.

Why the fuck do I want to save her again?

He looked over towards Kitty one final time.

"What would be good is if you could find someplace to wash that. I doubt we'll be making more friends if they see our weapons are coated in blood."

He closed his eyes and turned over. His brain was racing, realizing the risk he had taken. Kitty could just as well slit his throat in his sleep, and he'd given her a perfect opportunity. He pushed the thoughts away as drowsiness assailed him.

It's not like I can make much of a case against that at the moment..

((Roland Harte is now sleeping; which pretty much means he's left the thread. Skip me in post order until I return from my trip :D))

((Roland Harte continues in Shore Leave))
V5

Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
[+] spoiler

Jay Holland > "If I just smile, I guess they'll think it's all okay." ESCAPED
Jimmy Brennan > H&K CAWS (12 gauge) > "Step through that door and underestimate me, just like all the rest!" > PLACED: 22 / 276
Roland Harte > Kris > " This is, for all intents and purposes, my war now." > PLACED: 150 / 276
Orn "Dutchy" Ayers > Harpoon > "I fell in a puddle..." > PLACED: 98 / 276

Abby Erickson > Claw Hammer > "I get tired easy, so maybe the big sleep would be good for me." PLACED: 27 / 53
Brett Torres > Raven Arms MP-25 (.25) [x4 clips (6 round capacity)] 17/24 /// Stoner 63 (5.56x45mm) [(150 rounds per Drum)] 300/300 > "Bloodthirsty little bunch, ain't we?"
Jonas Jeffries > PINK TEAM > MAC-10 [x8 clips (30 Round Capacity)] 30/30 > " 'ow doo I make the muggafuggin' kh-chg noibs?!" PLACED: 31 / 66
wrote:"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey
NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
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Ciel
Mr. Danya
Joined: May 26th, 2007, 12:17 am

October 1st, 2010, 9:24 pm #16

Kitty didn't know Robert, not really. Like most kids in her school she knew their first names and never bothered to learn much else. Wasn't he a fixture in the drama club? That was about all she knew, or rather all she cared to know. The loss of Robert did not upset her. What did concern her was the fact that even if Robert attacked Roland first, there would be no way Roland could eviscerate him with that sword and claim it was self defense. If someone stabbed you in the chest there would be little chance of survival. However with that same logic would you just stand there and let someone open you up? If they had something big like a battle sword or a chainsaw it could be possible, but Kitty didn't want to run off of movie logic. Yes, Roland had to overpower Robert. There was no other way.

Kitty imagined the scene. Roland has Robert down on the ground, driving that flimsy sword into the boy's gut like a makeshift saw. Robert screams in pain, unable to escape.

It made her shiver.

What was even worse was that Roland seemed content thinking that digging a hole in the ground and throwing Robert in would somehow make his actions justified. It was like he was asking Robert, "would digging a grave for you make up for maiming?" Kitty felt insulted, disgusted even, to learn that Roland thought so little of his actions.

It took Roland hours to dig that hole. It surprised Kitty - she didn't expect him to be so stubborn. She secretly admired it for only a second. Had she been in charge, she would have given up after a half hour. Roland then wondered if Kitty would say some words for Robert. Her face contorted just a tad, still very empty but with a tiny insulted expression pursing her lips. She really wanted to slap the hypocritical asshole across the face. Instead she tried to be as polite as possible.

"I'd rather not," she said bluntly. "Thank you."

Roland proceeded to shuffle around for a bit. Had he been digging this whole time? He looked almost ready to pass out. Kitty was not envious. No matter how she tried to spin it, Roland really did work hard on the grave, a feat that Kitty could never hope (or want) to emulate. He turned back to her and said he was going to sleep.

Oh? Wait. What was that?

The raving lunatic wants to protect her? Wasn't that just swell. Kitty's small heart just grew three sizes.

Kitty sighed. "Yeah. Sure."

She didn't expect was to see Roland throw away his weapon.

The move did make an impression on her. Not the kind of move Roland was expecting. Kitty didn't feel like she trusted Roland. Moreover she felt that he was incredibly stupid for abandoning the only thing that could protect the both of them to begin with. She fully understood why he did it, that he hadn't meant to come off as foolish. Even so, being impulsive like that was going to get you killed.

Oh? And he also gave her permission to leave.

Thanks dad.

Kitty wrapped her hands around her legs, her chin nestled between her knees. She didn't respond, not because she didn't want to but she wasn't sure what to say. The boy was a killer and yet he was putting so much trust in her. Why? She never did anything for her. It was stupid, stupid, stupid.

Kitty waited until she could hear Roland snore before she did anything.

"Fuck you," she mumbled. "Go find someone else to wash your sins."

Kitty rose to her feet, leaving the bat laying against her tree. She let the bag hang off of her good shoulder. She looked around. It was quiet. Kitty felt nervous but she tried not to let it get to her. The clearing that Roland threw his Kris into was a few feet away and Kitty tiptoed over. It would be embarrassing if Roland woke up.

The sword was very easy to spot. It was cushioned by a pile of grass. It was like a sign that read "Pick me up." Kitty was all too willing to ablige. She took the sharp knife, twirling it around in her. It certainly was heavier than she imagined. A nasty piece of work.

Kitty looked down at Roland.

She could kill him. Stab him in the gut, cut his eyeballs out, castrate him, whatever. He was totally helpless. He deserved it. It would be easy. Heck, maybe she could win an award. Put her on the map.

Then she realized that no matter how she killed him, whether it was very violent or conservative, her announcement would still ring the same. Kitty killed a man in his sleep. That would do her no good. No one would trust someone who did that.

So the idea of leaving with the sword came to mind, and this seemed a lot more plausible. Kitty wasn't one for sticking with others. Even though she wanted to partner up with someone, it came increasingly obvious that it would not work. Roland was too stupid for his own good, and while he was higher than Anna in the useful department Kitty couldn't count the ways he could get her killed from some stupid decision. She had to rethink her plan. Perhaps she could hide away from the others until her shoulder got better. Let the others kill and come in and swoop a win when she was at full health. Yes, that was smart.

"Don't bother. He's a good boy. He's a stern person but he's not looking to hurt you. Please, don't wander off."

"... God damn it."

Great. Kitty was being held back by Katherine. Kitty held her head. Before it was just advice, but now she was holding her back. Kitty wasn't crazy, at least that's what she told herself, but she was sure that she had a screw loose. Maybe it was the fall.

Kitty held onto the knife and stood there, staring at the grooves.

She'd hold onto the knife though. Insurance. Besides, Kitty wouldn't want this thing falling into the wrong hands.

Now. Where could she clean off the blood?
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Jonny
Leader
Joined: December 31st, 2008, 7:54 am

October 1st, 2010, 11:54 pm #17

(This is not a post-order-broken disclaimer, because holy shit, JJ Sturn continued from Gamemaker and And So It Begins, The Epic Struggle Of Man And Bear)

Well, fuck.

When your day starts off with waking up on an island full of murderers and segues nicely into getting a defibrillator thrown at you and having a scared idiot kid try to hold you at gunpoint, it's probably a good idea to take a deep breath and tell you that it can't really get much worse. To say that you're gonna find Claire somehow, somewhere, sometime soon, and then everything from there should be some semblance of uphill. To maybe reach into your pocket, take out your pack of

Of where the fuck are my cigarettes. You have got to be fucking kidding me.

The thing about the universe was that it had this weird-assed obsession with proving JJ Sturn wrong.

Let's back up for a bit, since in a stunning display of self-control, JJ had managed to make it all the way till past sunset without needing another cig. By that time he'd covered a shitload of ground and made absolutely no progress. No sign of Claire at all, no hint about where she might be, but... but also no sign of someone who wanted to murder him really badly. No sign of any Fiamettas waiting behind trees to light him up with machine guns. And hey, no meaningless confrontations that had caused him to lose his temper and make another batch of enemies. So in a way, no news was good news.

Losing his cigs, though. That part was not good news. Fucking fuck. When was the last time... it woulda been when... for fuck's sake, did he really leave them back at the cell tower? Fake a punch on that Harold kid, do your best to set his fucked up strategy straight, light up a cigarette, and... and drop the rest of them. And not even notice till maybe 8 hours later. Smooth, JJ. Real fucking smooth. So what are you gonna do now?

Go and get 'em back.. Well no. That was stupid. He had shit to do, and dicking around for a few hours (how far was he by now?) so he could get a nicotine fix wasn't gonna cut it. But at the same time... it wasn't like he actually had a better option. He was almost certain he wasn't gonna find Claire on the way back to the tower, but then again, the odds weren't exactly better in any other given place. So that wasn't exactly a solid argument against it. Plus, if he was already getting this irritable and out of focus right now, imagine how bad it'd be if he had to go a few days without a fix. So... yeah.

You really just did that, JJ Sturn. You really just convinced yourself that your number one priority should be retrieving a pack of cigarettes that isn't even there anymore. Good fucking job. Say what you want about JJ Sturn, but he definitely had his head on straight when it came to priorities on an island full of psychos. It was like some sort of fucked up commercial. Tough-looking kid on a death island, battling his way through crazed killers in the name of cigarettes. Nothing gets in the way of my Wild Sevens, says the deep-voiced announcer.

Whatever. He could delay beating himself up about it till he thought of a better way to spend his time.

So he pulled out his map, he did his best to judge where he was in relation to the cell tower, and he started making his way back. He was going north, if he had the map anywhere near right. Going north pretty uneventfully, hearing a voice in the distance here and there, doing his best to avoid getting near any kind of commotion. Because we already know how that story ends. Someone sees that big scary monstrous asshole, JJ Sturn (the one who beats the shit out of girls), and they attack him because God knows what he's gonna do if he's left to his own devices. And then JJ's temper flares up, he gets pissed off about this kid taking a swing at him, and suddenly fists are flying. And then JJ takes out his billy club and starts beating the tar out of the kid, and then... the rest is just proving the kid right, isn't it. God knows what that JJ Sturn will do if we don't take him down immediately.

JJ Sturn had no intention of proving anybody right on this island.

He was pretty close by now, the cell tower looking pretty big in the near distance, but it had to be an hour or two past midnight. And he was getting dead tired, and there as no fucking light anywhere to be seen. So the pack of cigs was gonna be pretty much impossible to find till it got a little lighter, so... argh, fuck it. Fine. Here's a plan. The plan was to sleep light. With one eye open. To get a little bit of rest but to never leave himself undefended, and then to start his search again as soon as the sun came up.

The plan failed.

Of course it did. JJ had never been a light sleeper. And he wondered, as a blaring voice woke him up, exactly how he'd managed to kid himself into thinking he could pull it off. But it still seemed... early? Yeah, shaking the morning fog off did in fact confirm that the sun had just risen. So no big loss. So maybe stretch yourself out and pay a little attention to what this guy is saying... Oh fuck. He's listing the dead, isn't he. Fuck, fuck, why didn't I get ready for this... A bunch of passing names that weren't Claire. That was a good sign. But... fuck. First one he managed to focus on was "Third to die, as a shining example . . . " So that meant two people had died and either of them could've been Claire. In the first few hours of this fucking game, and he didn't even... fuck!

Okay. The solution was simple. The solution was to find someone, anyone, ask them if they heard about the first two people that died. Names, that's all he needed. Just their names, just he'd climb up the cell tower and there'd be someone there who he could ask, ask just a simple question and that'd be... fuck. He sure as hell needed to remember to focus more on these announcements the next time they came around. But that was for later- hell, the stupid fucking cigarettes were for later- because right now, all he needed to do was be running up that hill and making it to the top and someone, SOMEONE would be there who could put his mind at ease, someone could put his mind at ease if he just got to the top of the fucking hill and he

And he saw Claire Lambert.
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D/N
Contender
Joined: November 10th, 2008, 9:40 pm

October 2nd, 2010, 5:08 am #18

Oh yeah, she'd gotten them interested. That was good. Now she just had to keep them interested.

Andrea took a breath. She was nervous; she could feel her fingers starting to tremble. And why shouldn't she be? She'd been trying to figure shit out in her mind for hours, but getting her point across to others was a whole nother kettle of fish.

Man, where the fuck did she get some of these euphemisms from? Whatever. Time to put on a show for the cameras.

Except that Julian Avery evidently wanted to probe deep into her subconscious first and ask why she watched SOTF in the first place. Uhh, did he really want to get into that? Hell, they could talk for days and not come up with a satisfactory answer; it wasn't like she'd never asked herself. She thought Allen figured about the same, so, point in his corner.

Bah, give an answer and get on with it.

"Uh, why? I dunno, just look at me. I'm a rebellious teenager who's all about the counterculture, it's one of those things we do." She tapped her tongue stud against her teeth a couple times for emphasis, and as she did was struck with a temporary moment of brilliance.

Andrea changed gears, speaking faster. "But uh, just give me a second to explain something, cause this actually ties into my whole plan thing. I uh, I mean I don't know about everyone but most people I think recognize that it's real people dying and stuff. But I guess you just don't think about that part of it. Yeah, it's pretty fucked up, but there's a lot of fucked up stuff out there. I watched it for the story and because the whole thing was like Reality TV to the max, it was just really fascinating as long as you don't think too much about it being real."

Right, that was about as deep as she wanted to dive into that rabbit hole for now. Thankfully, she'd managed to swing the topic back to the what was important.

"And what I'm saying is that that's not just trying to rationalize things, that's the whole fucking point of the show. If SOTF was just kids getting killed, no one'd watch it. But it's not only that. This isn't some military program, Danya and whoever isn't doing this for some political terrorist goal. SOTF is a big fucking Reality TV game show. It's set up to... to get people to watch, it's set up to make itself entertaining and..."

She paused, aware she was rambling again. Blaergh. This was tougher than she'd expected. Right, Neil Sinclair. That was her fucking proof right there.

"OK, you guys remember that video Danya showed of the guy who was breaking cameras last season? That was uh, Neil Sinclair, he had this group and that was their thing, breaking cameras and other stuff to fuck with the game. And Danya knew about them, Danya could have blown their collars at any time, but did he? No, he killed some other students that hadn't done anything and then sat back to see what Neil would do next. He wanted Neil and his group to stay alive, because they were better for TV, people wanted to watch them, they were just a lot more important to the game, to the story than some girl who'd been hiding in the jungle was.

"That's the whole fucking thing about Danya. He WANTS us to try to escape, and he even gives people weapons and things that they can try to escape with! Last year they gave a student a laptop as her weapon, and even if the kids weren't all able to get their shit together and get out in the end, that doesn't change the fact that they could have! It's all about... producing entertaining television or whatever.

"This whole program, it's set up to get people to watch. And Danya, he's like a Bond villain or the Riddler or something, he gives us the clues and stuff we need to beat the game, because he knows that that gets people watching. And we, we just need to find them. You just need to think on a higher level, it's like a, uh, finding a secret level in a videogame, I guess. And seriously, Danya's a fucking clown, and I think it's a lot easier to find than you'd expect it to be."

Andrea stopped for now, catching her breath. Ugh, she hoped she'd gotten everything out there. And while she also hoped that Julian and Allen had bought her story, it was really more important that Danya did. Because Andrea wasn't delusional enough to expect that Danya would just give her a shiny medal and let her go once she found her way out of here.

She just needed to convince him that she thought he would.

"So what I'm going to do is find that secret level. It isn't some exact scientific plan on how to deactivate the collars and alert the military, but uh, seriously, unlike those plans, what I'm doing actually has a chance of working."

OK. That would do for a start.

v6!
G058: Kaitlyn Greene aka Katy Buried - Horse Tranquilizer and Syringe
She Knew She'd Found Freedom - Questions - Fools - Barons - Opportunities - Sideshows - Dawns - Gulches

v5!
G038: Deanna Hull - Replica Freddy Glove - DECEASED
From Sea to Sky -Smoke--Sun--Tiki--Nine--Repeat--Talk--Now--Drift--Hunger--Valley--Fall--Rust--Paper--Heart--Sky-
B023: Jesse Jennings - Riz Action Figure - DECEASED
From Vision to Glory -Vision--Summon--Time--Plan--Length--Sleep--Cause-

v4!
B006: Ricky Fortino - Trowel - DECEASED
B022: Imraan Al-Hariq - Remington 870 - DECEASED
G036: Carly Jean Dooley - VASE D: - DECEASED
G077: Andrea Raymer - Gunpowder - ?????
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Crash
Winner
Joined: February 12th, 2008, 5:15 am

October 3rd, 2010, 5:06 pm #19

The noises ceased.

Good. Whoever the psycho was across the field, he seemed to be laying down on the ground now. Part of Claire actually hoped that he was having a mental breakdown, even though the rational side of herself reminded her that, twenty four hours ago, she'd have never dared to wish such a thing on someone else. At least then the idiot was less likely to kill them all...or get them all killed, as the case may be. The good thing about it being a guy, however (even if she couldn't identify who it was), was that it wasn't Reiko, or Clio, or Kris. At least if this guy saw her, she might have a chance of talking him down.

Still, could she really assume that those girls weren't justified in what they did? Somewhere beneath her pseudo-noble ambitions, Claire had already come to accept the fact that she wasn't going to survive if she didn't get her hands dirty. It was a nice thought, but that was really all it was. If she was ever going to see her parents again, she had to be the one student to survive out of almost three hundred. The odds were against her - especially if she wasn't going to fight back.

That didn't mean she had to go picking fights, though. If there was anything she could say for Julian, it was that he had the right idea. Find people you trust, and stay the hell away from the conflict. Smart, sincere, and to the point. But realistic...?

"Sorry, Julian, but I don't think this is going to be that easy..."

Claire paused, taking a moment to rub her temples with her left thumb and index finger, the gun dangling loosely from her right hand. What was taking him so long? It was pretty clear by this point that he wasn't alone in there, or he'd have called out for her some time ago. Which meant that chances were that the situation had gotten sticky. He'd told her not to run in guns-a-blazin', but at this point she was wondering whether or not he'd even have the eyeballs left in his head to notice if she did.

Re-adjusting the pack over her back, Claire took a brief glance around the surrounding area. The two on the other side of the field seemed pretty pre-occupied, and the cell phone tower was eerily quiet. She was pretty sure that if she approached from the side opposite the other two, they wouldn't be able to see her.

"So Julian's a samurai, huh? Guess it's my turn to be a ninja."

Offering herself a deep, cleansing breath, Claire tightened her grip on the mini-magnum and pivoted, turning towards an incline which led to the other side of the cell phone tower. As if crossing a street, she took a moment to look both ways...

...and promptly went rigid.

The tall, muscular, intimidating form of JJ Sturn met her gaze from halfway up the hill. His green eyes locked against hers, as if his one and only life purpose had been fulfilled by finding her. He opened his mouth to speak, but Claire heard only waves of sound crashing up against her. Her requiem was being played, and she didn't even have the presence of mind to enjoy it.

A convulsion. Claire's legs wobbled, as if unsure of their next move. Her breath came in elusive gasps that couldn't quite decide whether or not they wanted to enter her lungs. Her eyes, now shuddering beyond belief, had welled up with liquid petrification. She couldn't speak. She couldn't move. Her speech fell victim to the snare trap the tears had left in her throat, and emerged in pathetic warbles.

"Juh..."

She swallowed a lump in her throat.

"J-Jule..." She whimpered slightly louder.

"Shoot him!"

Her brain's advice fell on deaf ears. Survival was no longer her main motivator. Fear had kicked the shit out of survival.

"Claire-..."

"NO!"

Her panic aided in her shrieking louder than she thought herself capable, and all at once her voice empowered her to do the same thing any other young woman with a two hundred pound man after them would do.

Run the fuck away.

(Claire Lambert continued in So Strange I Remember You)
v4 Characters:

G23: Claire Lambert: Property of the Fabulous Mr. Toben

v3 Characters:

B65: Dorian Ibanescu: Coastline

Deceased:

B57 - Jeff Marontate: Cleaved
B120: Jim Middleton: Pummeled
G61: Anna Grout: Submitted
G62: Andrea Vanlandingham: Martyred
G39 Alexis Machina: Crushed
G23: Trish McCarroll: Defeated


natlei was sleeping in her bed when someone came thru her window "get away rapist" she said still half asleep and hit one of them in the head with her liucky frying pan then went back tyo bed them men the injected her with a sedative and carried her off
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Jonny
Leader
Joined: December 31st, 2008, 7:54 am

October 3rd, 2010, 8:08 pm #20

(This, on the other hand is a post-order-broken disclaimer. Permission has been obtained from all other members of this thread)

To pick up where we left off:

And he saw Claire Lambert.

And he saw Claire Lambert, and when he saw Claire Lambert, everything was about to go right, because Jesus fucking Christ, how did he manage to pull that one off, how did he manage to find her back here, and holy fuck and-- and say something. Say something now, because she looks scared out of her mind, and fuck's sake, she has every reason to be scared out of her mind, and if you don't say something right now, everything is about to go wrong. And so:

"Claire! Jesus Christ, I..." She looked so scared. She looked so scared. "No, wait! I... Claire-"

"NO!"

She was running away. She was running away and nobody could blame her. What was that JJ Sturn going to do if she just stood still? What was he going to do if he caught up to her? Best not think about it, best avert the children's eyes, best cross yourself and shake your head in sorrow because that's the only possible outcome. She was running away because she needed to run away, because she was holding on to dear life, because there'd been a time before when she had stood up to JJ Sturn, and we all know what happens to girls who stand up to JJ Sturn.

So prove them wrong, JJ. Don't follow her, just let her go. She had said exactly one thing to JJ before she'd gone tearing off into the distance. NO! No means no, JJ. This is your chance to prove them wrong. A chance to prove that JJ Sturn could deal with things not going his way without flying into a violent rage. And for a second, he considered it. He really, really did. Just nod his head, accept that she didn't want to have anything to do with him, get on with his life and think of something else to do on this stupid fucking island. She didn't really need his help, did she? After all, she'd made it this far already. She hadn't been one of those first two people to die (well at least he didn't have to ask anyone anymore), and she hadn't been one of the next seventeen either. So she didn't need JJ. So he ought to just prove everyone wrong.

But there was another way to prove everyone wrong. A better way. Leaving her alone was a step forward, maybe. But fuck it, it wasn't a big enough step. You just stand down and do nothing at every occasion, that's not being a better person. That's just being scared. Scared of what some people are gonna think of you, which- fuck it- they're gonna think of you anyway no matter what you do. So JJ had his better way, his only way. He was gonna make it right. He was gonna make things right with Claire, just follow her and ask her to please hear him out, show her that he meant no harm, explain everything, explain what he wanted, do his best to offer her some help. If she still said no? Well, that's when he'd take no for an answer. But not until he'd tried, goddammit.

With one hand gripping the strap of his daypack tightly, JJ ran after Claire as fast as his legs could carry him. A few strides into his run, his right foot kicked a pack of Wild Sevens cigarettes through the thick grass.

JJ didn't really notice.

(JJ Sturn continued in So Strange I Remember You)

------------

One of the most important evolutionary advances in the human race is the ability to just stop fucking talking. Cities, nations, empires rose and fell based on whether those in charge could, when the time came, just shut their mouths. Here is an example: "The only thing to fear is fear itself. Also, the complete breakdown of our nation's economic systems. Also, the dust bowls that are tearing through huge parts of the midwest. Also, the climate of tension and unrest creeping all throughout Europe in a way that threatens to spill over to America. These are all also good things to fear, so go ahead and fear them too if you want." That would have been a bit of a fuckup on old FDR's part. Thankfully, since he'd been endowed with the miraculous shut-the-fuck-up gene, America was still standing.

Poor, poor Andrea. She did not have this gene. It wasn't her fault, really, it wasn't something she could even control, but her Raymer's Disease just made her go on and on and on when she didn't need to. If Murder Island was going to hold student body presidential elections sometime soon, Julian had no plans to vote for Andrea.

But, well, to be fair, what she was saying was kinda worth listening to. The reasons for watching? ... yeah, those were kinda weird. Kinda a little desperate and self-justifying, and kinda disappointing, and kinda making Julian wish he hadn't asked in the first place. But the part about the plan? And how they all needed to go around bending the rules of the game? Julian liked that. Julian could get behind that. Julian could go tell Claire (remember to call her in, Julian, you said you'd do that soon as you determined the folks inside weren't a threat) about this plan, and they'd go find Aislyn and tell her, and maybe they'd all head back to Andrea for further instructions, or maybe Julian would keep on reuniting people and then shipping them off to Andrea so they could all find the secret level, and... yeah. It wasn't that bad of an idea. No, fuck it, it was a good idea. It was an idea worth fighting for. And in that moment, Julian decided he'd fight for it.

Remember this moment.

Because the next thing Julian decided to do was to, well: "Aight Andrea, you got me sold on this. I'mma do whatever I can to help you find the secret level, okay? Cause it don't really sound like this is a one-man operation you got planned here. And hey." Took a step back, opened the door with his free hand, and grinned a little. "I got someone else who I think might be interested too. Hey Claire!" This was a pretty loud shout, so she was almost guaranteed to hear it. "Yo Claire, all clear in here, you can come on in!" No response. Okay, maybe a little louder. "Hey Claire! We ain't got all day!" No response. No sign of her when he turned to look outside. "Jesus Christ, Claire! You telling me it took you that short to forget the code word?" No response.

No response.

"No no no no... fuck!" He shot a look back at Andrea and Allen, anger mixed with embarrassment, and bolted out of the tower. "Claire! CLAIRE!" Nobody... nobody there but... fuck! Fucking blue-haired girl, fucking Kitty Gittschall was the only one there, fuck where did she "Where did she go? There was someone here just a few minutes ago, Claire Lambert, she- I- did you see her? Where did she go, did you see where did she go?" Kitty stood there for a second or two. Said nothing. Didn't look too pleased about something or other. Fuck you that you're not pleased about something. "Kitty, please! I need to know, I promised her I'd protect her! Please, just..." Kitty pointed. East. Towards town. That was all Julian needed. That was all he needed to start running off after her, after- why the fuck had she left, why hadn't she come to Julian or used her gun if something had gone wrong- that girl that he'd sworn to protect.

There are times when it does not feel so good to be a messiah.

(Julian Avery continued in No Turning Back)
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