Ghosts

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Joined: August 9th, 2010, 3:28 am

November 9th, 2010, 7:10 pm #1

Her clock was so off she slept at noon, under a windy, weedy overhang coming off the side of the mountain. When she woke up, Zach was still there. He had been with her like an old, mean dog; the hours when she slept, he might have guarded her or curled up next to her. All she knew was when she woke up, he was standing outside the overhang, knives in his hands, as the sun began to set.

They ate food then, hardly talking, ripping pieces off their respective baguettes. The mountain was full of sounds and hollow light, birdsong and wind and the pink air of sunset. Mizore spotted a cavern in the mountain then; a bubble in the tunnels, it looked natural-made, a cavern of shallow, fresh water a few feet within the rock. Of course the mountain had natural caves--the fresh water on the island must come from somewhere, and an underground lake would explain the crux of the three rivers--but this particular cavern was still surprising, lit from above by a chink in the mountain, and roughly, mistily from the outside. Pillars of rock came from the shallow water, rippling, wraithlike and tall.

"Don't you think it's a little too late to be painting?" Zach said.

But Mizore was already peeling off her stockings, replacing them with a pair of loose, painted patchwork jeans, stuffing her tights and her skirt in the rucksack and bringing out a couple of safety pins to pin the legs up. She stepped into the cold water, barefoot, and waded shallowly over to the first rocky pillar. Started to paint.

"... yeah, go have fun." Zach resignedly sat down at the pool edge.

Several hours later, the pillars were covered in painted ghosts.
--------


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

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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Ciel
Mr. Danya
Joined: May 26th, 2007, 12:17 am

November 10th, 2010, 6:46 pm #2

Zach Jamis was afraid that he had been retracing his steps.

Afraid was about the only word he could have used. Scared shitless, tail between his legs? Fuck it. He wasn't scared. Wasn't scared of anything. Except for turkeys. They don't count though. Just stupid birds. Stupid.
No, all he was... was... shit. He had lost his train of thought. He knew it had something to do about how he had come up around the same place he emerged when him and Sam found their way out of the tunnels. There was a little cavern nearby with a pool of water in it. At the time Zach didn't really give two shits. His memory was fading in and out. He could recall vaguely that he had eaten shitty bread, drank shitty water, walked across shitty grass. That was about it. Rec center, then cave.

Zach turned to look at Mizore. She was looking at that wall like it was a fun little merry-go-round. Zach sneered.

"Don't you think it's a little too late to be painting?" he asked.

She didn't answer him. Damn it. Was she just going to ignore him now? He hadn't uttered a peep to her the whole time. Was that what she wanted? Fuck. Why the hell did she follow this nut anyway? She was no Sam. She had her own ideas. A backbone as big as her, well, back. Sam had a spine, she wasn't a little lackey who agreed with everything Zach said. She was lenient though. Patient. She had put up with Zach's shit because Zach's shit was Zach's shit and she understood that. Mizore didn't understand that. In fact she didn't seem to care about what he thought. Thought it'd be more important to finger paint on fucking rocks. Bullshit. What was he supposed to do? Talk to her about art?

"Yeah, go have fun." He said dismissively. She didn't respond to that either.

Zach didn't take off his boots. He just sat at the foot of the pool, just watching Mizore. His mind slowly tuned everything out until the only thing he could do was watch her light shit up. It took him a while to recognize what she was drawing, mostly because he was more focused on the act of drawing rather than the creation itself.

Zach cracked his neck and spoke.

"Is this what you did back home? You a graffiti artist or something?"

Stupid question. Zach wanted an answer though.
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Joined: August 9th, 2010, 3:28 am

November 12th, 2010, 3:47 am #3


"Is this what you did back home? You a graffiti artist or something?"

Mizore was almost done. She added a bit of red shadow to the rocks, and put down her spraycan.

"Yup."

"Why'd you say you were famous?"

Mizore pulled her ruined pencil out of her pocket. Sucked her lips in. Began her signature. "Radio Asuka. Some semi-famous graffiti artist. Was me." Oh God, the English language hated her. "Got into Bennington off it. But now I'm here. I guess it's better for me than most people. I can still draw 'till I drop. And most of my friends aren't here."

A twist of the wrist. End of the signature.

"You?"
--------


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

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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Ciel
Mr. Danya
Joined: May 26th, 2007, 12:17 am

November 12th, 2010, 5:04 am #4

"Uhh. Zach Jamis... of Zach Jamis fame..."

Zach scratched the back of his neck. "None of my friends went to this school. Hell, I never spoke during class, just sat in the back of the class and just pretended I wasn't there. Only kid I like from school is here. That was Sam... uhh, the kid from before. Franklin?"

Zach didn't like talking about himself. What the hell was he supposed to tell her? His life story? There wasn't much. Why should he bother? It just made him feel like a complete idiot.

"Yeahh..." Zach crossed his arms. Awkward pause. "Well, yeah, shit happens. What can you do about it? Actually kill people?."

Zach kicked at the pool of water. He wanted a smoke.

"If there's one thing I know, it's that I ain't getting into that shit." Zach shrugged. "Killing, I mean. It's just a copout. Only cowards would ever think of killing their own classmates, no matter how much they hated them."
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Joined: August 9th, 2010, 3:28 am

November 12th, 2010, 5:41 pm #5

"Coward…" Mizore licked her lips. "I don't believe it. I figure it's got to take a lot of bravery to kill someone, although perhaps it takes more strength of will to not pull out a weapon when things get really rough." She shrugged. "I just find the urge to kill--to play--foolish. Trying not to come to terms with your own death. If Danya had said everyone was going to die, then we'd all be spraypainting rocks or whatever, maybe killing a chump a day. But because he said that one person would survive--well, now we're all killing people. As if we think we'll be the lucky ones. It's like putting a conscience round in a firing squad. Suddenly everything's a lot more vicious."

She flopped to the ground. "But maybe I'm wrong. And needless to say, I'm glad you're not playing."
--------


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

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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Ciel
Mr. Danya
Joined: May 26th, 2007, 12:17 am

November 16th, 2010, 6:50 pm #6

Bitch just called him a coward. Zach sneered.

"Foolish? I just call it dumb. Even if you were big enough to go killing people that you know, you'll find a target the size of a tire painted on your back. I mean jesus, it's common sense. The fat fuck goes on and on about each death every day so someone's got to be eating up every word he spews. Some asshole's probably got a blackboard and some chalk, making complicated equations about each murderer, thinking that's how they're going to live when it's all about not being stupid."

Zach wanted a smoke. He kept talking.

"What, are you glad that I'm not playing because you like me? Or glad because I won't try to knock you off?"
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Joined: August 9th, 2010, 3:28 am

November 17th, 2010, 3:32 am #7

Mizore saw Zach sneer, and thought grimly--he thinks I just called him a coward. Does he ever listen?

He went on. "Foolish? I just call it dumb. Even if you were big enough to go killing people that you know, you'll find a target the size of a tire painted on your back. I mean jesus, it's common sense. The fat fuck goes on and on about each death every day so someone's got to be eating up every word he spews. Some asshole's probably got a blackboard and some chalk, making complicated equations about each murderer, thinking that's how they're going to live when it's all about not being stupid."

You think they're stupid. Also, dumb. In other words, foolish. Which is what I was saying. If you didn't yap so much, I'd say you were deaf.

But she couldn't be too snappy at Zach now. The rocks around her were ghostly in the moonlight, spattered, gleaming red. Beautiful.

"What, are you glad that I'm not playing because you like me? Or glad because I won't try to knock you off?"

Zach's voice knocked her back to reality--he didn't stop talking--and yes, now she was snappish for real. Nothing to do with him, poor boy, other than the fact that he was talking. But because she had just spotted the loudspeaker, glinting darkly in the corner of the cave, and realized that announcements were coming soon.

Not Raidon, not Raidon, not Raidon, not Raidon…

And bam, like that, she was cold again. And this puddle she had her feet in on the bottom of the cavern was slick with streaks of algae.

And Zach was clicking his tongue, waiting for an answer.

And she snapped at him.

"Because I like you? You're fishing for compliments now? I thought you didn't care what people thought of you, Zach Jamis." She laughed, and put her head back. She should really get her sleep schedule back on her track; she didn't like the darkness that was in her now. "Isn't the fact that you're not killing me good enough? I'm not ready to die yet."

Pah. And she was supposed to be ready to die. She was cracking like an egg. Little spidery cracks. All because of Raidon. Stupid Raidon.

Yeah, it would be easier if she just liked Zach Jamis. Fell right smack in love with him. At least he shared her views on playing. She could live with him for her last days of island life. In peace, because it was foolish to go to war.

Foolish to fight. Nothing left fighting for.

And that, that made her bitter.

Mizore, pacifist to the core, had always had something to fight, or fight for. A piece, a cause, a counter-protest, a personal demon, an ugly world. But now, here in this cave, her feet doused in algae water, spraypaint used, she felt empty.

Danya had won. There was nothing left to fight for anymore.
--------


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

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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Rattlesnake
Winner
Joined: January 4th, 2009, 9:01 am

November 27th, 2010, 11:29 am #8

((Kari Nichols continued from High Tides and High Hopes))

Sleep. It was something Kari had gone without both in her former life and this new one.

It was a funny thing to think about - calling her days on the island a new life. But that's what it seemed like. There was a disconnect there, a giant rift in time that seemed to divide two separate Karis from each other. One of them was was active, competitive, cheerful, whirling her cube around like butter in her hands, studying instead of sleeping. The other was filled with constant dread, plodding around the island in search of safety, determined not to die but not sure how long she had; stroking the barrel of her gun for comfort, unable to sleep exposed to her classmates. Neither of the groups she'd found were satisfactory. One of them was short on security and long on firepower. The other one, much briefer, was just too uncomfortable to stand. A killer had saved her life - and she really didn't know what to think. She'd put up with him just so she could get a good night's sleep, a night's sleep that was almost eternal.

Sleep. It was something Kari had gone without. But soon, she'd sleep forever.

She'd headed for the tunnels for some reason she didn't really know. They weren't pleasant, not at all. There was a body outside one of them, a boy with his head smashed in. She shuddered, turned away, closed her eyes, grabbed her gun, solved her cube, anything to calm her nerves. And then she'd headed right into the depths. Not that specific tunnel, though. A different one, as if that really mattered. She'd tried to get some rest. But sleep just wouldn't come on the rough, uneven, rocky floor. In the cold, in the dark, undercover yet out in the open - if anyone did come by, they'd find her all to easily. The tunnels were a place to hide, but there were no places to hide in the tunnels.

Ghosts. Was she hallucinating now? She hadn't hallucinated from lack of sleep, not that she remembered. And then, some ghosts-to-be, a couple of students that she'd never in a million years attack but who had to die if she wanted to live. She didn't want that. But she couldn't bear to lose.

There was nothing for it. They'd notice her one way or another, whether she tried to slip back into the tunnels or not. Could she trust them? It didn't matter, really: the burden of trust lay on those without the machine gun to back them up. The gun. Hands off of it, let it slip to the side, show it but don't brandish it. And now, put on a friendly face.

"Erm... hey."
[+] spoiler
G065 KK Konipaski - "I killed a girl today. I think. And I didn't make a lot of friends with it. You don't bleed that much and walk away, I know that."
Skidded to a halt in the Central Park with the Basket-Hilted Rapier, Swordbreaker, Butterfly Knife, Stinger.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

B060 Matthew Young - "What brings you to the beach on this crappy day?"
Taking a sand nap in the Eastern Inlet with the iPod from Heck
1 2 3 4

G075 Tessa Blackridge - "Oh. ...I left quite a mess, didn't I?"
Staring down the cold hand of Death in the Bike Trails with the Pepper Spray
1 2
[+] spoiler
B055 Nick Reid - "Put that thing down, and neither of us have to die."
Troubled no more in the Mountains with the Molotov (x1), Estoc, Jutte

G090 Kari Nichols - "please..."
Sleeping forever in the Logging Road with the Nothing

B088 Cody Jenkins - "They won't come, you know."
Decomposing in the Northern Cliffs with the Middle Finger (x1)
NO. THERE IS NO MORE TIME, EVEN FOR CAKE. FOR YOU, THE CAKE IS OVER. YOU HAVE REACHED THE END OF CAKE.

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Joined: August 9th, 2010, 3:28 am

November 27th, 2010, 8:50 pm #9

"Hey," Mizore shifted her legs under her and crooked her hand in a proto-wave.

The girl who just entered shone with exhaustion. Mizore remembered her name--Kari Nichols. She had noticed her in class, red hair, green eyes, sketched her surreptitiously once, for the color contrast. She also did speedcubing, which was cool.

And apparently she'd been given a machine gun.

Shrug. That would be interesting.

But she didn't look like she would be mowing them all down, which was, Mizore supposed, a relief. She looked tired and pinched and cranky and possibly unnerved by the red ghosts. But non-Zach company would be nice. She was a bit sick of confrontations for today.

"Ghosts are not real. I've just been painting." Nice way to state the obvious, Mizore. "You can sleep here, if you want. We're not playing, and one of us will take watch." Her body clock was so screwed up that she probably couldn't help but take watch. "Announcements coming soon though."

Not Raidon, not Raidon, not Raidon…

Agh, Raidon. Once upon a time, Mizore had been careless and unbreakable. The island hadn't mentally shook her, not more than death usually did--she knew she would die one day, and then, when she had been put on the island, she knew it would be sooner. It was even a relief in some ways, to know that she didn't need to do anything else but draw, find paints and draw, sketch ghosts and learn the lines of death. Her friends were elsewhere, in a commune, in Saint Paul; the only person she had to care for was herself. And she was pretty low-maintenance.

But then Raidon had come, and now she was cracking. Little spidery cracks in her mind: she could feel them. She needed to meditate again. She needed something different to happen. An escape plan, a breakout, a bit of bloody hope, because suddenly it had seeped into her bones, it wasn't just her death she cared about. Zach was here, for all his annoyance, a boon companion, and Zach's friend Samya, and Raidon, Raidon…

She swallowed. She needed to find Raidon again. Something would happen, then. She'd stay with him. She'd insist on it. She'd be an utter and complete bitch if she had to.

Yup. Things had been much simpler when she just wanted to paint.

The Nichols girl took a cautious step into the cavern, and Mizore remembered one more thing.

"Watch out. The middle of the floor is covered in water."
--------


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

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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Ciel
Mr. Danya
Joined: May 26th, 2007, 12:17 am

November 28th, 2010, 1:59 am #10

Zach didn't have a response for that. He wasn't fishing for compliments but he wasn't exactly NOT fishing for them. It was strange. It wasn't like Zach would actually care if Mizore didn't like him. Even so, he hoped that Mizore had a positive opinion about him. That it wasn't a relationship akin to a flak vest and a chest. Fuck, she sounded mad. Oooo, scary. Zach just stopped thinking about it altogether. He shut himself off. Blah blah blah you're not killing me blah blah blah. What the fuck ever. It was only a fucking question. He tried to think of something else.

... well. Looks like Sam didn't get herself killed. Yet.

Wonder where she was.

Was someone watching him right now?

Probably not. Who the fuck would miss Zach Jamis? King of the assholes.

... Maybe Lacy. Yeah, maybe Lacy.

Zach only had a second girlfriend. At least the chick liked to call herself his girlfriend. Her name was Chloe and they only lasted for seven days. Their relationship consisted of Chloe hitting on Zach and Zach just pretending she wasn't there. Chloe accidentally rubbing herself against Zach. Zach sneering. Yeah, that brought back memories that he wished he hadn't conjured up. He did scream pretty loudly at her. Maybe Chloe was glad he was on here. Just another log on the fire.

He never liked Chloe though. Whore. Lacy though. Damn. At the risk of sounding like a sadistic bastard, he kinda wished she were here right now.

He finally noticed the newcomer. Mizore seemed to be all too willing to let the other girl in. On the other hand, Zach had never seen Kari before in his entire life. He knew this for a fact. She had red hair and green eyes. How the hell could you forget that? Zach never looked to broaden his social circle. He was perfectly happy just ignoring his classmates. Mizore and Sam were the exceptions. Dustin Royal was a fluke. So yeah, when he saw Pippi Longstocking he didn't know a damn thing about her. Frankly he didn't WANT to know a damn thing about her. Even the machine gun didn't phase him. It was as if she were holding a PEZ gun.

Zach just sighed. He looked at Kari and gave her a hearty, warm welcome.

"Yo."

Yeah, welcome home champ. We're happy to have you. Zach turned away and just zoned out again.
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