These are the woods on the island’s Western coast. The trees run nearly all the way to the sea, allowing only a thin stretch of beach, which disappears altogether depending on the tide.* Threads Allowed: 4 *

Morning Comes Slowly

Dr. Nic
Survivor
Dr. Nic
Survivor
Joined: October 27th, 2009, 3:45 am

September 13th, 2010, 12:36 am #1

[Boy #61 - William Hearst. Continued from Everybody's Changing.]

Minutes ran into hours, and the hours bled away as night came, as their pace slowed and the only things lighting their way were the twilight peeking through the canopy and the bright, piercing cones of artificial salvation from their flashlights; The darkness was an enemy, one of fear and of the unknown, one that hid the threats behind its veil and kept the weary ones ever watching and paranoid. At least, one of them was watching, one of them was paranoid and panicked as the moon rose higher and the hands of time ticked by without any signs of the precise moment; He clutched the items in his hands, the handgun and the flashlight, with an ever vigilant and fear-filled grip.

The wandering couple in the dark, the girl and her would be protector, had been walking for hours, through the woods and the edges of the swamp, past a road a long ways past and over a river; The boy made a point of resting there, at first, and refilling empty bottles with fresh water. But they didn't stay in one spot for too long, always getting up and moving before someone could find them; They had passed by the voices in the distance and the gunfire and the explosions, avoiding confrontation as they worked to get their bearings. The boy had read the map, tried to point them in the right direction, but they had passed their would-be destination by a long time ago. Now, it was just wandering at a trudging pace as energy and willpower slipped away from them.

Day gave way to dusk, and dusk gave way to night, and their legs refused to carry them much farther without rest, without recovery; More time slipped away as the boy worked feverishly to conjure up fire with what they had available, to make a decent place to rest and sleep in short order. But thanks to the trees, to the very woods that surrounded them hours earlier, their fire would last the night, the warmth and protection enduring as they recovered from their long and harrowing journey; Fear ruled the trip, but safety was found within the crackling flames, within the light from the ever reliable torches they carried through the night, always hoping that the batteries would last.

They had come a long way, from the emptiness and desolation of fallen woods, passing the river teeming with life in this land of death, through the thick and shadowed woods, finally arriving at the edge of the choking wood to the welcome sight of the sea; The boy had worked to make camp, and they spent the remainder of their night resting, the calming noises of the sea and its lapping waves slowly lulling the protector and his protectorate into the welcoming arms of sleep and dreams.

Throughout their trip, from the river to the woods to the very sea they would sleep by, they had spoken; About their lives and their loved ones, about those they wished to find and their hopes of survival, about those they would fear and the paranoid contemplations that came when the word 'Player' was uttered, the realization that this twisted game could claim their lives, using their once beloved classmates as pawns.

"I hope Peter and Alex are alright. I hope Colin and Everett and Maddy.. and everyone else, I hope they aren't getting dragged into the world of this 'game'."

The contempt in William's voice when he uttered the final word, when he addressed the nature of their situation with that one word summary, was clear; Behind the fear and the worry, behind the scared young man with the weak arm and the overwhelming power in his hand, there was hatred and anger, there was contempt and a frustration that was just barely being held back by the floodgates of self control. Hatred for the situation they were in, for the people behind it and the leader of them all; Anger directed at himself, at his weakness and his fear, at his panic and paranoia filled mind. Contempt for those responsible, for the ones who would kill and the ones who would disregard the lives of their classmates; Frustration at his inability to do anything, at the hopelessness of their situation and his apparent lack of control, and at the belief that he may not be able to protect the only person he'd connected with despite the circumstances.

"In the morning, we can start looking for them. If I'm right, we should be here on the map, and we can actually make use of the compass they gave us."

As he spoke, he unfolded his map, showed the spot he had marked to Tiffany, their probable path outlined and their current position marked upon the laminate coating; They'd certainly come a long way, though their pace was slow and their path was inefficient. But with new bearings, with the sight from their clearing and the landmarks they'd located on their route, their next foray into the unknown would be better informed; He handed over the map, the intention for Tiffany to copy the information wherever she saw fit. With a stick, the young man probed the crackling flames, shifting the tinder; He tested the heat and hung a plastic bottle above the soothing warmth, suspended by a shoelace from a quickly built and potentially unstable framework of branches. A trick he'd been shown during camping, one important thing he'd learned from Alex, the purification of water; He didn't know what was in the river and wouldn't chance sickness, the bottom of the plastic bottle slowly turning black and beginning to sag as the water inside heated, the occasional bubble rising to the surface. He didn't have a pot, so he made due with the materials on hand, the exact time and place he learned this trick slipping from his mind as he watched the water slowly boil.

"Heh, I suppose the things I learned weren't completely useless."

As they sat and spoke, he offered up what few personal items he had in his backpack to Tiffany; A bottle of juice with some of its contents missing, a slightly crushed bag of chips and a broken granola bar, the bread he'd been given and a half melted bar of chocolate. He emptied his bag in his pursuit of taking inventory and arranging the contents to make it easier to carry; An old sports jacket and an extra pair of khaki slacks, a pair of jeans and a couple shirts, a handful of unmentionables and little else. A couple of books showing wear, signs of use and a sign of their place on his list of favorites; Marabou Stork Nightmares and The Tempest, The Hobbit and The Blade Itself. The temptation to begin reading was there, to escape from this nightmare into a world that was not his own, but fear and worry prevented him from opening any of the books.

"Brought all these along thinking that the trip would be boring. I guess I was wrong."

No, it wasn't boring, but it certainly wasn't entertaining; He hated being there, being on that island and part of that twisted game. He hated having to hold on to a gun like letting go would kill him, knowing that was very close to the reality he was facing; He hated not knowing what was going to happen and being afraid of every little noise, every little movement spotted out the corner of his eye. But most of all, he hated not having his friends nearby, having the people he loved and cared for, the people he held dear, the people he wanted to spend his last high school trip with... he wanted to know they were safe more than anything, to know that they were alive and well, to know that they hadn't become victims or players of this game.

"I hope we can find them tomorrow. Peter, Alex, Everett, Colin, Maddy... I miss them now."

He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting back the slowly building flood that threatened to overtake him, letting out a heavy and shuddering sigh as he probed the fire once more; The last thing he wanted was to break down in front of Tiffany, to lose what little strength he had and to let the young woman down, the very one he'd decided to help and protect hours earlier. He struggled to fight back the tears though, as he continued to think about his friends, about what could be happening to them and what they could be capable of doing, of how they would react to this and how others might react to them. He didn't want to think about them getting hurt, about them dying in horrible ways or even about them being willing to kill others in order to survive. He didn't want them to make those choices, those horrible decisions that they would regret.

"You don't have a weapon, do you?"

He hadn't seen her carrying one, nor had he seen any signs of one by looking at her bag, and he'd begun to wonder what happened to it; Had someone taken it or had she not been given a weapon? Or had she abandoned it? Abandoning the weapon... he wondered if he would ever be capable of doing that, abandoning his weapon, leaving behind his only means of survival and his only tool in his fight. He'd come to rely upon the power in his hand, knowing he'd have to make the choice to pull the trigger again eventually, that it was inevitable that he would repeat his actions with Dominic, potentially with a fatal end. It was his power to use, his choice to make, and he'd chosen to protect Tiffany, to protect himself and to survive as long as he was capable.

"I've thought about throwing this away before, when I first woke up and when I held it on Dominic. After you had left, I sat there for so long just staring at it... But I can't throw it away."

He looked up from his hands, from the silvery weapon held within them, looking to Tiffany; Resignation and determination in his eyes. He'd long since resolved to keep this tool, this power, the weapon he held; He would bear the weight, the responsibility and the consequences. But he would not throw it away and would not leave it behind, and he never truly wished to ever let go of it, even for a moment; For it was his power, his strength in this time of weakness, the only thing that could guarantee his survival in this, the grandest of all fights. If he was to survive, if he was to help others survive, he would need that power, that strength and the will to use it.

"You understand, right? I can't just let it go. It's the only thing that will stand between me and death, the only thing that could ensure I have the strength to survive this. I don't want to use it and I don't even know if I could... but I still can't bring myself to let it slip from my hands. Does... Does that make me weak?"

It had been hours since they'd fallen asleep, since they'd drifted into the land of dreams and nightmares next to the warmth and protection of the fire; William had been awake long into the night, long after Tiffany had drifted off, watching the dark horizon and the sleeping form nearby. He'd kept watch early on, looking into the woods and then out to sea, forgetting himself in the movement of the waves and letting everything slip away in the soothing sound of the crashing waters; For a long time he sat and stared, he broke down and cried, he let everything out under the light of the moon above and the fire behind. He wouldn't want to wake Tiffany, hoping the sound of the sea would drown out his freed emotions, his weeping and his cursing, his lament and his sorrow, his anger and his rage. Nothing had been safe from his curses, not Danya or his lackeys, not the island that would become their grave or those who would put them below; Not even the lord on high had been safe from his curses at the night, for the once skeptical young man had broken down and spoken to God, questioning the decisions and cursing the apparent malevolence.

The crackling fire had long since burned out, the resin soaked wood having given its last to warm the sleeping young man and woman, leaving the pair to the mercy of the sun in its stead; Just as the first orange and red rays appeared on the horizon and the lapping waves of the ocean began their slow transition of the tides, the screech of feedback woke the sleeping pair, the herald of death making his announcement at dawn on the second day. With a clouded, sleep addled mind and a sore, aching body, William rose from his chosen bed, looking to Tiffany and the coat he'd lain upon her in the night; He didn't remember when, but it must have been late. Before he could realize what was happening, the nightmarish voice that had been echoing through his dreams came in loud over the speakers positioned in unknown places, the very voice he'd heard in the auditorium before darkness descended upon his mind once again; His heart leaped into his throat as his stomach tied into knots, and a sudden wave of nauseating anxiety struck him hard.

"Oh god."

He choked back the urge to empty the contents of his stomach, to run as far as he could and hide from the voice of death, the voice of fear and paranoia; The voice of Danya. With every word that bellowed forth from that man's mouth, that came out over the loudspeakers with as much sick satisfaction as in person, he fought back the sickness, frozen in place by a chilling fear. He didn't want to listen, he didn't want to hear that man take pleasure in telling everyone who had died and who had killed and who he admired for the shear brutality behind their actions, but he had no choice; No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to cover his ears, to drown out the noise of the herald and forget where he was.

Remi.

Dallas.

Warren.

Eric.

Reika.

Chris.

Sally.

Cyrille.

Daniel.

Petrushka.

Megan.


Nothing seemed right or real, and he wished it was a dream, with all his strength he wished this, he prayed for this, he hoped for this; But it would not be. It was real, as real as things would ever get, and it only got worse as everything stopped moving, as his mind began to spin and nothing at all registered for the young man as tears streamed down his face in full force; They came fast and they came hard, as he struggled to find his voice and his lungs refused to obey. The only thing he could do as the voice sounded out from above, as the messenger of death spoke the next name, was collapse to the ground as all strength left his body, as the tears fell from his eyes harder than they ever had and the only thing he could hear was his own shuddering breath.

Everett.

One of the last names he ever wanted to hear come out over those loudspeakers, Death's crier speaking out his recent acquisition with twisted pleasure and a sick grin; A cold communication issued forth to announce the death of a close friend, a recent friend, someone who was loved and cared about by many, dismissed with nothing more than a single sentence as if their life meant nothing. The words rang in his ears for the longest period, the name echoing and everything he ever experienced with Everett, everything he'd ever done or said, all rushing to the fore front of his mind; Everything they'd enjoyed after prom, the slowly building friendship over the last moments of their senior year, the happiness and the laughing and everything he'd ever done or said, every last little memory.

"Everett... I'm so sorry... I..."

A dear friend had been lost, a life gone without any warning, without any chance to say goodbye or offer any last words, without any way of telling him how much he was appreciated and how much his friendship was cherished. Now there was nothing... no way to offer those goodbyes or those words, no way to tell him how much he was adored, how much he was respected or admired. Would it always be that way, never getting a chance to say goodbye to those he cared about and those he loved? Slowly, everything started to move again and his mind returned to him, his sorrow present for all to witness, as sound returned to the world and his tears flowed with less force. Death's crier was still reading off the list.

Keith.

Paige.

Robert.

Brent.

Maria.

Tony.

Amber.

Colin.


That last name was not among the dead, not on the list of those collected by the reaper, but among those that had participated in his harvest; Those that had killed their classmates, their friends, someones son or daughter or grandchild or lover. Those that he'd held in such contempt, the one he worried about and the ones he feared; The very ones he was seeking to protect Tiffany from, the ones he sought to protect those he cared about from, the ones that he would have to find the willpower to strike down with the power in his hand. But what would he do if one of his friends, someone he was close to and someone he cared for, someone he had spent time with and someone he thought wouldn't hurt anyone... what would he do now that one of those beloved friends had killed?

"Colin... He... he killed someone?"

He didn't know how to process that, how it should register with him or how he should react to that news. But nothing came to him; No explanation, no excuses, no possible reasons for Colin to have killed someone, to have gone that far. Not hate nor anger nor contempt, not worry nor fear nor paranoia, nothing but confusion came over William as he tried to process that information, as he tried to figure out why Colin would kill someone, how he would be capable of doing such a thing. But before he could figure out what to think, how to react, he heard the loudspeaker continue with its broadcast. The announcement of the danger zones, the places where none would enter and survive from this day forward; None of the names made much sense until he looked to the map that lay nearby. Resigned to the task, he outstretched a trembling hand to the laminate document, as he marked the locations on his map as ones to avoid.

"I..."

He couldn't think, he couldn't talk, he could barely even move as he sat there in shock, trying to process what had just happened and everything he had just heard. He didn't know what to do or what to say to Tiffany, looking to her with tears still streaming down his own cheeks. He wanted out of this game, off of this show; He wanted to leave this reality behind, to run from everything that had been happening and to take anyone he could with him. Without saying anything, he turned away from Tiffany and pulled his knees up.

He hung his head.


He buried himself in the darkness.



He wanted out.
Boy #??? - Joshua Edwards
Hanging out somewhere, playing his heart out.
Writer and local retail slave at the comic book store.

Girl #??? - Viktoriya "Vika" Starikova
Floating in the void, unfinished and half-formed.
Hot headed member of the soft ball team, secretly wishing she could fly.
[+] spoiler
Boy #14 - Alex P. White
Where he started, and where he finished.
Tried his best and tried too hard, and fucked up royally at every turn.

Boy #61 - William M. Hearst
Where he began, and where he ended.
Did what he could and tried to do more, but ran out of time.

Girl #48 - Kaitlin Anderheim
Where she was, and where she went.
Found her strength and her will to live, and survived despite it all.

Girl #101 - Sofia I. Martelli
Where she rose, and where she fell.
Started out angry and alone, but died on her own terms, in love.
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VinnyMcQ
Player
Joined: November 22nd, 2009, 11:14 pm

September 14th, 2010, 1:34 pm #2

(Trevor Duncan continued from Twists and Turns)

Trevor had been walking, dazed and confused, ever since he left the warehouse. His head was pounding and he kept half sitting half falling as he made his way. He’d been aiming for some sort of house and got himself turned around and lost. He wrapped his arms around himself, clasping his coat to his body to keep the cold out. Night was rapidly falling and Trevor saw the shadow of some kid with a gun behind every tree he passed. The blade of the hoe irritated the back of his head. Trevor ignored it. It was too much effort to stop and turn it around, too much to take the damned thing out of his pack and carry it.

His nose had stopped bleeding but the pain lingered. The cold sapped his strength. I just need to sit down. Just one little rest. NO! You hear about this shit all the time, some poor soul gets lost on the mountains and they find them all cosy and snuggled up and DEAD. Keep going, just till you get to that tree. That one there, then you can rest for a bit. Trevor blinked hard and yawned. Pain shot across his skull. He reached the tree, passed it and kept going. He was determined not to stop. I need rest. I can’t keep going anymore. Trevor tried to cry but the tears wouldn’t come.

Suddenly Trevor saw a light. It wasn’t too far. It he was almost there when he tripped and fell. He was lying in a shallow ditch. He tried to get up but his strength was spent. The dead leaves made for a soft bed, even if the broken branches didn’t. Trevor curled up in a tight ball. Some of the spare clothes he’d brought with him served as a blanket, haphazardly thrown over his still form. Trevor slept as best he could.

Come morning the first thing Trevor discovered was that he was terribly stiff. He ached all over and as he stood up he got a painful cramp in his leg. Biting his lip he massaged the cramp till the pain disappeared. Covered in leaves and various pieces of forest Trevor made to get up again. As he sat up he became aware of the voice that woke him.

‘…As of this announcement, the Lighthouse, the Groundskeeper's Hut and Greens are now danger zones. If you're in any of those places, you'd better clear out pronto! Tick tock, folks!’

Where the hell am I? He thought as he stood up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and clambered out of the ditch. He could see someone sitting down. That guy must have made the fire last night. Trevor turned and walked behind a tree. It was pointless trying to hide from the cameras but the last thing he needed was to be shot to death during a piss. Trevor closed his eyes. The cameras aren’t looking. They have better things to focus on than Trevor junior.

Wiping again at the dried blood on his face Trevor made his way slowly towards the boy. He was nervous after the beat down he’d gotten from Simon but he couldn’t just walk away. If this guy shoots me then I’m gonna…I don’t want to get shot.
I'm not as awesome as this song makes out
I'm angry, underweight and sketching out
I'm building bonfires on my vanities and doubts
To get warm just like everybody else
wrote: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.
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Solomir
Player
Joined: September 30th, 2008, 8:11 am

September 15th, 2010, 8:30 am #3

((Tiffany Baker continued from Everybody's Changing))

She had lost track of how long they’d been walking or how much her feet hurt from all the walking. They hadn’t been moving particularly fast or pushing particularly hard, but she was still not ready for a full day of hiking across the island. Several times, they had stopped to rest, fill up water, and trade conversation, but they never stopped for long. William was always urging them to keep moving.

William had caught up with her shortly after their meeting in the logged forest. In all the action and misunderstandings that had happened with Dominic, she had forgotten to retrieve her daypack. William had been a good person and brought it to her. Tiffany couldn’t imagine how long she’d last without the food, water, flashlight, and clothes that were in the daypack. He also suggested that they travel together for a while, an idea that Tiffany agreed with. He was, after all, somebody that she felt she could trust.

In another time, the journey across the island would have been a wonderful experience. The trees were lush with life, and towered up far higher than any tree Tiffany had seen before. Smaller bushes and ferns littered the forest floor, and in some cases, vines snaked through the underbrush and curled up around the roots of large trees. There were squirrels, or maybe some other small rodents, darting around and up the massive tree trunks, while birds chirped from their vantage point high up in the branches. It was a peaceful scene that Tiffany wouldn’t be able to find anywhere near the Twin Cities. Peaceful, except for the threat of death hanging over each of the poor students who were now on this island.

Eventually, the day’s worth of hiking was brought to a close as the sun started to set. Tiffany was glad she was with William; she would have been helpless in the dark. As darkness approached, William started to gather up materials to start a fire. They had gotten really close to the beach, which Tiffany could see not too far from where they stopped, and the thinning treeline allowed for a few more minutes of light than would be possible deeper in the forest. The fire William set was not a raging bonfire like ones Peter had talked about before, but was rather small and intimate instead.

Night fell and the pair bathed in the warmth and light of the small fire. It had been a long day, but Tiffany didn’t feel like sleeping. As they quietly stared into the fire, William started talking about his friends, their friends, who had also been on the trip. He was worried that they might be dead, or worse, that they had been twisted by the game. “I’m sure they’ll all be okay. They’re all good people. They’d never stoop to the level of what Danya wants us to do. They’re all okay.” Tiffany wasn’t sure if she was saying this to reassure herself or William. She badly wanted to be sure that Peter and Maddy and Everett and everyone else were okay. “God will protect all of us.” The invocation, almost a prayer in itself, was the only thing she had left to hold onto.

William took out a map and showed her his plan for the next morning. Tiffany wasn’t good with maps, and totally useless with a compass, so she just nodded in agreement with what he had decided. As long as they were looking for their friends. In a corner of her mind, Tiffany felt that she needed to find Peter quickly. Not just because she wanted to find Peter; Tiffany knew that Peter could make some really stupid mistakes when he was stressed. If she could get to him quickly, then she could make sure that nothing really bad would happen.

While she pondered this and stared at the map William had handed to her, he had gotten up and played around with some contraption to hang up a water bottle over the fire. Boiling it, she supposed. It was a clever way of doing that without the luxury of a pot or other similar container. He then went to his pack and pulled out some assorted snacks; not the bread and crackers that had been supplied in the daypacks, but food and drink that he had packed for the trip itself. He offered some of it to Tiffany, which she politely took and slowly ate as he continued to rifle through his pack. After a few moments, he came up holding a few books. Tiffany couldn’t really make out any titles in the dim firelight. Not that she was seriously considering reading a book while on this island. Still, she laughed at William’s attempt at humor. The trip had become anything but boring.

William sighed again, expressing his worries about their friends. Tiffany missed them too. As he used his stick to poke at the fire again, she reached over and lightly took hold of his hand. She didn’t know what to say, but she just wanted to make him feel that he wasn’t alone. They spent a few silent minutes, just holding each other’s hand, the only thing they had left in the night.

The silence was broken by another question from William. Tiffany hadn’t really thought about her weapon. Not since she had thrown it away. She considered lying for a brief moment, but that wasn’t fair. She trusted him, and he trusted her. “I… I threw it away,” Tiffany looked at the fire, so she didn’t need to see William’s eyes. “It was a g-gun.” She took a quick glance over to where William had lay down his own gun. It didn’t look like the gun she’d had at all. “It just didn’t feel write to be holding one. I didn’t want it, and I didn’t want anyone else to take it either.”

William recounted his own decision to hold onto his weapon. Tiffany didn’t think he was a bad person for keeping the gun. In the hands of somebody willing to use it, a gun could be a terrifying weapon, but it could also be used for good. She didn’t trust herself to be able to use it for a good purpose, but William was somebody that would be able to do the right thing. With her hand still lightly grasping his, she leaned over and put her head on his shoulder. “If you’re going to use it for a good cause, to save lives, then you’re doing the right thing.” She could feel William shift slightly under the intimate contact. They’d spent more time together in the past day than they ever had before back at school. “You need to be strong to do the right thing. I believe in you.”

They spent the rest of the night listening to the crackles of the flickering fire. Tiffany didn’t know how long it was until she fell asleep. Time had stopped mattering long ago.

((placeholdering the rest because it’s friggin’ late and I have school tomorrow, but Tiffany also goes inactive tomorrow))

The screech and crackle of the speakers littered around the island rang through the morning air. The sound was enough to wake Tiffany. Any sound probably could've woken her. The night had not been spent in a safe and comfortable slumber, but in wary fits of short rest that could be disturbed by the slightest sound. Now the sun was rising, reflecting its radiance off the ocean water by the beach. With the morning brilliance came the voice of the students' kidnapper, echoing through the trees around them.

The voice was too jolly, too enthusiastic for the situation that the students were in. Tiffany wanted to cover her ears, to shut out the sound of Danya's voice, but there could be no escape. Nineteen people were already dead. Tiffany didn't want to believe it. Each name marked one of her fellow students as either among the dead or among the killers. In a way, she was relieved that she didn't hear the name of any one of her close friends. As each name was called, she repeated the name softly under her breath, adding it to them to the list of people for whom she would pray for.

For some, she prayed for repose. For others, she prayed for forgiveness.

Peter was not among the killers nor among the killed. For this, she breathed a sigh a relief, the first breath she could remember taking since waking up to the announcements. It was then that she noticed William, huddled over on the other side of where their little campfire last night had been. His expression, of shock and disbelief, likely mirrored the features showing on her own face. Tiffany could not imagine that there would be many people that wouldn't feel the same.

Except for the people that had killed others. But maybe they hadn't really meant to kill people either.

She got up from the bed of branches and leaves, putting aside the jacket that William had given her to use as a blanket. She walked around the ashes of the fire and sat at William's side. Her arms reached out and wrapped around William's form, and she pulled herself up to him. She didn't know if she was trying to comfort him, or seeking comfort from him. She didn't know what else to do. Maybe she should be crying, for the loss of life around them. Maybe she should be strong, to do her best to support him for the coming day.

"Everything will be okay," she said softly, "Peter and Maddy are still alive." Tiffany wasn't sure if she should mention Everett. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose a good friend; she wished that she would never have to find out. If something like that had happened, she was sure she'd want her friends to do their best to cheer her up. "I'm sorry about Everett. He's in a better place now. All we can do for him is to pray." She let the silence reign, and William just sat quietly with her. It was a little bit of peace, the only little bit of peace they could have for the moment.

Tiffany wasn't sure how long they sat there in each other's company, but at some point she became keenly aware of the dirt that had gotten tangled in her hair and that stained her jumper and pants. If she was going to spend another day walking around the island, she didn't want to have to do it like this. She disengaged herself from William and went over to her pack to check what clothes she had brought with her. "I'll be right back," she said to William before retreating out of sight past some bushes.

Taking one of the water bottles, she poured a little bit to splash onto her face to clean off any dirt. After that, she tipped it over her head and let a small trickle of water run over her hair, rinsing out the large chunks of earth that were tangled in it. A little bit more water was rubbed onto her clothes, in a vain attempt to clean that as well. She was careful to not use too much. After making little progress on that, she retrieved a new t-shirt from her daypack. She could probably go another day with most of what she had on, but her shirt was definitely feeling grimy from the day before.
V5
B036: Benjamin Ward: "Sh-shut the fuck up. Or I'll k-kick your ass."
B047: Marcus Leung: "Let's start by staying calm."


V4
Rest in peace

B004 - Peter Siu: "We're all fuck-ups."
G006 - Tiffany Baker: "Will you stay with me, until I wake up?"
G027 - Marybeth Witherspoon: "The cameras are pointing here, not there."
B115 - Tony Russo: "I'm sorry...."
G087 - Rachel Gettys: "I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell."
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ChetV
Cannon Fodder
ChetV
Cannon Fodder
Joined: August 13th, 2010, 7:58 pm

September 22nd, 2010, 10:49 pm #4

((Jake Crimson continued from Take, Eat))

Lost. A few hours after walking away from the past group, he had no idea of where he was going. "Oh right... I have a map." He looked inside his bag and found his map which he forgot to use in the first place. Jake tried to read the map but noticed it was dark already. "Wow why have I been dazing off so much?" He was really tired of walking around so he tried to find a place to rest. He noticed several trees up ahead to he decided to hide in that area. He put his bag down by one of the trees and tried to hide behind it, moving into fetal position. Thinking of what was going to happen tomorrow, he slept, hoping that no one would find him.

The next day Jake had a rude awakening. Danya's voice wasn't a pleasant one, and his message was even worse. Several people were killed and many others were doing the killing. Jake knew none of them, so he had no idea of who he was mentioning. Jake was a bit hungry and thirsty so he pulled out the loaf that he partially ate before and one of the bottles of water, and ate. After he was done, leaving a half of the original loaf and half of the water in the bottle, he walked towards a nearby tree and dug a hole, for his necessities.

He pulled up his pants and noticed two people a few meters away. He didn't know what they were doing but he was able to tell one was a girl and the other a boy. Were their names mentioned this morning? He had no way of knowing unless they he went up to them and asked, but he knew it was obviously not the right thing to do. He went back to his bag and picked it up. He slowly crawled closer to the duo and hid behind some decent bushes, which were slightly closer to them than the tree.

"Let's see what they're going to do now..."


Weapon: Cinderblock | "A GODDAMN CINDERBLOCK!" | Status: ALIVE | Location: The Swamp: Take, Eat

B154 - Johnathan "Johnny" McDowell | Weapon: Ornate music box with dancing ballerina | Status: ALIVE | Location: Southern Cliffs: Feeling Kind of Anxious
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Dr. Nic
Survivor
Dr. Nic
Survivor
Joined: October 27th, 2009, 3:45 am

September 24th, 2010, 4:24 am #5

Alone and withdrawn, William sat in the early morning light for the longest time, his head buried in his arms, blocking out all sight and as much sound as he could as he simply listened to his own breathing, to his own soft sobbing and his own sorrow filled thoughts. Tiffany had come and gone, offering what comfort she could but William hadn't listened, hadn't done anything but remain where he was, trying to remove himself from the world as best as he could; He didn't want to be there, he never did, but now he'd lost a friend and another had killed someone and he didn't know what to do. He wanted to stop crying, to push everything out of his mind and be strong for Tiffany, to be strong where others had been weak, to push onward and fight for those who couldn't fight anymore; But nothing came of his wishes, nothing came of his desires and his silent begging. Nothing but more tears and sorrow.

I want to go home.

"Get up."

Silent voices, unheard but present in his mind, brought old memories to the forefront of his thoughts, brought out old insecurities and the solutions to old problems; The voice of a close friend, a good friend, a loved one. He didn't see anything but darkness, didn't hear anything but his own heartbeat, his own breathing and the distant sound of crashing waves; He was still alone, but he could still hear that familiar voice, the one that gave him strength, calling to him. A soft whisper escaped his lips, muffled in his arms and his knees, nothing but silence present outside his dark little world.

"I can't."

"Yes you can. Come on, it's only a little further."

He could remember that day so clearly, the rocks and the trees, the long hike and their intended destination; He could remember the meal in their backpacks, the smell of the flowers and the sound of the wind blowing the leaves in the canopy. He could remember the obstacle in their path, the first time he'd faced such an opposing element in nature; A cliff of decent size and no path around. He could still feel the pain in his legs and his arms, the impact on his back when he'd fallen the first time. That smiling face, that caring and kind look, that soft yet commanding tone of voice.

"But I can't..."

"Look at me. Just grab hold, and pull yourself up. Just like I did."

♪ Silly thoughts of small deeds. ♫

Memories of that day, of that first real trip alone, of the time he was forced to push onward despite his weakness; No help was going to be given, it was his obstacle to overcome and one he'd avoided for a long time. But even with that smile, even with those words, failure was always looming, weakness was always present; He remembered wanting to give up, to just go home and forget about their plans. But he didn't leave, that familiar voice pushing him to try again, compromising with him. One more time, just one more try, if he didn't make it they would just go home; But he would have to try his best. A small smile returned to William's hidden face as he remember that day. As he remembered pulling himself up and the happiness he felt; Even if he was sore and his hands hurt, even if he never wanted to do it again, he had pushed himself, he had overcome that obstacle on his own strength.

♪ Everything fades away... ♫

The tears had stopped flowing, his breathing had calmed down and he could no longer hear himself sobbing in the darkness. All he could hear was the distant, muffled sound of the waves, all he could feel was the soft breeze, the salt filled air fresh and soothing. He lifted his head from his arms, the faintest of light hitting his eyes and the noise of the waves coming in full, the sounds of Tiffany moving out of sight, of the proof that he wasn't really alone. He'd spent long enough sitting there alone, spent long enough on his sorrow and his sadness. He'd have to push onward no matter how much he wanted to leave everything behind, more so now than ever; He still had a responsibility to Tiffany. He still had to fight. It was she had told him last night; He had to be strong to do the right thing.

♪ Come turning of the tide. ♫

William outstretched his legs once more, unfolding his arms and coming out of his secluded little world, out of his desire to leave reality; He still had to push on and be strong, he couldn't sit there forever. He knew that if Peter was there, if Alex was there, they would be strong. He knew Everett wouldn't want him to become so withdrawn, to give up so soon and so easy. There was still an ever present sorrow and a piece of him would probably always be missing, but he couldn't let that hold him back in his fight, in his and Tiffany's struggle to survive in this hell. They still had to find everyone, to find Peter and Alex, to find Colin and everyone else they cared for; So sitting and crying wasn't going to get them anywhere.

♪ All I'm saying is don't give up, you're getting so close. ♫

Just as he was about to stand up, about to grab his things and get ready to keep moving, he spotted someone coming out from behind the trees; Not the feminine form of Tiffany that he expected, but the form of another boy, of someone he couldn't identify in the dim light. On his back there was a large item, a metal item, something that William's mind immediately reasoned to be a weapon, something that made his heart jump into his throat and his hand shoot for the handgun at his side. Before he even realized what he was doing, William had the gun trained on the boy with the bloody nose; The sights were lined up, just as they had been when he first fired the gun, his hand lacking in the trembling that had once been present when holding the imposing weapon. Perhaps that was thanks to Tiffany, to her reassurance that he would use it with good purpose.

But was this really the good purpose that she spoke of?

♪ All I'm saying is don't give up, it's the right way you chose. ♫

"Don't move."


He had to be strong to do the right thing...



Was this the right thing?




"...Trevor?"
Boy #??? - Joshua Edwards
Hanging out somewhere, playing his heart out.
Writer and local retail slave at the comic book store.

Girl #??? - Viktoriya "Vika" Starikova
Floating in the void, unfinished and half-formed.
Hot headed member of the soft ball team, secretly wishing she could fly.
[+] spoiler
Boy #14 - Alex P. White
Where he started, and where he finished.
Tried his best and tried too hard, and fucked up royally at every turn.

Boy #61 - William M. Hearst
Where he began, and where he ended.
Did what he could and tried to do more, but ran out of time.

Girl #48 - Kaitlin Anderheim
Where she was, and where she went.
Found her strength and her will to live, and survived despite it all.

Girl #101 - Sofia I. Martelli
Where she rose, and where she fell.
Started out angry and alone, but died on her own terms, in love.
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VinnyMcQ
Player
Joined: November 22nd, 2009, 11:14 pm

September 30th, 2010, 3:43 pm #6

Trevor froze.

Aww fuck’s sake man. What the fuck is this shit?

William had his gun drawn. His hand was steady. Trevor wanted nothing more than to just turn around and go. Go back inside the warehouse. Why’d I even leave? I just had to stay there and wait it out. None of this would’ve happened. I’d be fine. His head throbbed and his eyes ached. If I could just blink. No, don’t take your eyes off him. Not here, not now. You can’t let this be it. It felt different from the warehouse. Even if he had walked right into danger just like before. Because he hadn’t been thinking properly just like before. Actually, it didn’t feel different at all. He was afraid. He felt…sad. He wasn’t going to make it to the end and give Danya what he deserved. He wasn’t even rescuing someone. He’d bumbled ineffectively for a night and walked into his own death.

All the world’s a stage and Trevor Duncan has just realised he didn’t get the lead role. He was an extra, an extra in his own life. A footnote. His whole face itched but he was too afraid to move and scratch it.

‘William.’ A shaky, disjointed voice. ‘Please.’ Pathetic and meek. I AM NOT PATHETIC.

I am smart, I’m happy and I have so much potential. There is nothing you can’t do if you try hard enough. So try. Live. You got yourself into this mess and you can get out of it. You’re going to get home, do your training and be a teacher like you always wanted. And this will never happen to anybody again.

Of course, the reality was that Trevor Duncan was never going to make it off the island. He was never going to see his hopes and dreams come true. His grand desire to end it all would come to nothing; his friends would carry on fighting. Carry on dying. Carry on failing. All he could hope for was that someone good survived. Somebody who deserved it. Somebody better than me.

Trevor could feel his lips, dry and cracked. He ran his tongue over them. He swallowed. He took a small step forward. He sneezed.
I'm not as awesome as this song makes out
I'm angry, underweight and sketching out
I'm building bonfires on my vanities and doubts
To get warm just like everybody else
wrote: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.
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Dr. Nic
Survivor
Dr. Nic
Survivor
Joined: October 27th, 2009, 3:45 am

October 4th, 2010, 11:44 am #7

[Skipping post order to keep with the flow of the event. It's all been planned out.]

Everything fell silent and still, a moment frozen in time as the lives and paths of two scared young men crossed, as fate cast the dice and events conspired against all those involved. The soft sound of cautious breathing and the beat of his own heart once more became the only thing that William heard as he stared into the eyes of the boy before him, as he stared at Trevor and held a gun upon the frightened young man with an all too steady grip; No trembling, not of his arm or of his hands or of the finger held hesitantly over the trigger. Nothing ran through the boys mind besides the words spoken with comforting intent, the words that gave him strength enough to find confidence; In his actions and his intent, in his future and in the very reasons he would do everything he would go on to do.

He never meant any harm.

He never intended to hurt Trevor.

William hadn't moved at all since Trevor appeared, since he aimed the gun at the boy and stared down the sights to see the fear filled eyes of his would-be target; Fear had driven his actions and was holding his aim on the boy, the same fear that had frozen Trevor in place brought forth the shakiness in his voice. Trevor's voice was soft and without malice, broken and weary, betraying his doubts and anxiety over the intent behind the events in motion before him. A voice filled with worry and terror that William was all too familiar with, a tone that was suddenly similar to one he'd heard just the day before when he initially came upon Tiffany; The tone in Dominic's voice as he begged and pleaded on his knees. The striking similarity that William couldn't help but notice, the one thing he couldn't ignore as he stared at Trevor from behind the intimidating weapon.

"It's... it's okay."

He struggled to force those words from his throat, to willingly let down his guard in the face of potential danger as the paranoia in the back of his mind told him not to take his eyes off of Trevor, not to lower his weapon or lose focus. But he couldn't ignore the facts in front of him, that Trevor was just as scared as he was and didn't intend on harming William or Tiffany, that he probably didn't even know Tiffany was there; He couldn't bring himself to go with his paranoid thoughts and assume the worst of the boy begging before him. He wanted to believe that Trevor was just as anxious and alone as he was, to believe that Trevor was never going to be able to hurt anyone and that he would never be forced to defend himself from Trevor.

He had to believe what Tiffany told him...

Everything was going to be alright.

Wasn't it?

He tried to smile, to offer that sense of comfort to the distressed boy in front of him, to show that he didn't mean any harm in holding a gun on him; That it was all in self defense, with no intent other than protecting himself. He was going to lower the gun, letting the muscles in his arm relax, take his finger away from the trigger; He was even going to turn the safety back on, something he neglected to do since setting out on his trip with Tiffany to what became their campground. He wanted everything to be alright, for everything to turn out to be just fine, for everything to melt away and for them to sit down together, to confide in eachother and find solace in one anothers company; After the announcements, they could certainly use it. He just wanted to relax... to forget about it all and find comfort in the fact that someone else was there, that someone other than Tiffany would be on his side.

Was that really too much to ask?

But nothing ever turns out how we wish it would, not really, not in the end. And that realization came to late as he struggled to let his guard down in front of Trevor, to let his body and his mind relax; Struggling to force his body to obey despite all the fear and paranoia that had driven him since he woke up for the first time. He looked away from Trevor for a moment, looking to the gun and then to where he thought Tiffany had been, where she had walked off to; He took his eyes off the panicked young man for only a moment, only a second, but something caught his attention and brought his focus snapping back to Trevor. Trevor had broken his own frozen posture, had relaxed ever so slightly, enough to take a step forward; William was beginning to relax, to ease up and was about to let everything simply slip away. But a sudden movement... unexpected and immediate, even the smallest movement, the smallest action, could cause surprise and shock. Could cause a horrible, regrettable reaction.

William jumped at Trevor's sudden action.


His hand clenched.



He pulled the trigger.




The gun went off.





"Oh god... No..."
Boy #??? - Joshua Edwards
Hanging out somewhere, playing his heart out.
Writer and local retail slave at the comic book store.

Girl #??? - Viktoriya "Vika" Starikova
Floating in the void, unfinished and half-formed.
Hot headed member of the soft ball team, secretly wishing she could fly.
[+] spoiler
Boy #14 - Alex P. White
Where he started, and where he finished.
Tried his best and tried too hard, and fucked up royally at every turn.

Boy #61 - William M. Hearst
Where he began, and where he ended.
Did what he could and tried to do more, but ran out of time.

Girl #48 - Kaitlin Anderheim
Where she was, and where she went.
Found her strength and her will to live, and survived despite it all.

Girl #101 - Sofia I. Martelli
Where she rose, and where she fell.
Started out angry and alone, but died on her own terms, in love.
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VinnyMcQ
Player
Joined: November 22nd, 2009, 11:14 pm

October 4th, 2010, 5:53 pm #8

(All events approved)

Boy 102, Trevor Duncan deceased.

Mercifully it was fast. The bullet hit the collar around his neck. He wasn’t even looking, his eyes still closed after his fatal instinct. There was a flash of light and suddenly he was falling. The world span. His mouth opened and closed. He saw his body fall onto its knees. He was…confused. Then he saw the headless body collapse, blood spurting towards his accidental killer. His eyes widened as the terrible realisation came to his dying mind. He opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. He could see William standing and tried to meet his gaze, but his eyes wouldn’t obey, instead they rolled back.

When Trevor opened his eyes again he was moving. He looked down expecting to see his legs, expecting that it had all been a dream. But it wasn’t all a dream. He was being carried by a woman in black. Questions erupted in his mind. Each one overtook the other, fighting for pole position. How was he here when he clearly died? Did that mean there was an afterlife? Heaven and Hell? Trevor’s head blinked in horror. He’d committed his fair share of non-belief and sins. What if he’d been wrong? Was he doomed to an eternity of pain?

This is some bullshit. This shouldn’t even be happening.

‘But it is happening’ said the woman in black.

Did she just- ‘Did you just read my mind?’

‘Yes’ said the woman in black.

Clearly not the talkative type…oh bugger.

The woman in black said nothing, but smiled softly. When he asked where he was she said nothing. He asked what was going to happen and she said nothing. He yelled and screamed and she merely stroked his head in a patronising manner. The woman in black carried Trevor through the thick wood. The sunlight was shining through the branches and there was dust in the air which glittered, sparkled and danced around them as they walked. The orange glow was otherworldly in nature. Well I’d say that if I knew just what this was he directed at the woman. They walked with great strides and soon they were walking on the ocean itself. There was a fearsome storm which calmed as they walked past. Together they crossed the entire earth, all the sights Trevor had ever wanted to see. This filled him with sadness and grief. ‘Enough!’ He cried.

All at once they were in a graveyard. The woman held his head aloft and looked at him sadly and spoke. Her voice was soft and gentle. If he wasn’t wrong it too was filled with sadness. ‘This is where we part. I can’t take you further.’

‘What do you mean, further? What is /further/, what does that even mean?’

‘That I leave to you to figure out for yourself. Indeed, this whole journey is yours to interpret how you choose. When you accept it for what it is you can move on.’

‘On to what?’

The woman in black simply smiled again. They came to a small grave. She held his head aloft and spoke once more. ‘Alas poor Trevor, I knew him well.’ With this she placed his head in the grave and vanished.

You got the quote wrong.


I'm not as awesome as this song makes out
I'm angry, underweight and sketching out
I'm building bonfires on my vanities and doubts
To get warm just like everybody else
wrote: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.
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Solomir
Player
Joined: September 30th, 2008, 8:11 am

October 6th, 2010, 3:13 am #9

A loud crack split the air.

Tiffany looked around confused for a moment. The sound was unfamiliar, but its volume was worrying. She couldn't figure out where it came from, but it was definitely somewhere close by. Whatever it was, Tiffany was sure that being alone would be a bad idea. Stuffing the old t-shirt and the water bottle into her daypack, she retraced her steps through the bushes to where William had been. If there was any danger, he could protect her.

What she saw when she got there made it hard to stick with that line of thought.

There was a head on the ground. Just a head. The body was on the ground several feet away. But the problem was that the head wasn't on the body. She didn't recognize the face on the head. Even if she could recognize it normally, the fact that the head wasn't on his neck made it impossible to think rationally. There was blood everywhere too. Tiffany turned away from the corpse and the head. If she kept looking... she didn't want to think about why she would keep looking or what she'd do if she looked again.

Her eyes met went to William. He was just standing there, his gun still held up. He was shaking. His eyes were unfocused, distant. "William..." Tiffany stopped herself before she could say anything that could shatter the fragile string holding William together. If she accused him of doing whatever he might possibly have done, then she'd lose him. "Are you... please put the gun down...."

Morbid curiosity nibbled at her mind, urging her to look back at the body. Tiffany fought it. Whatever had happened, there would be a time to address it. That didn't stop her from wanting to scream, to panic, to run away from what might be a killer not even ten feet away. But there was a fine balance to keep. If she lost it now, then William might lose it too. She had to trust that William wasn't a killer.

Trust.

That was the way to getting out of this game. Trust.
V5
B036: Benjamin Ward: "Sh-shut the fuck up. Or I'll k-kick your ass."
B047: Marcus Leung: "Let's start by staying calm."


V4
Rest in peace

B004 - Peter Siu: "We're all fuck-ups."
G006 - Tiffany Baker: "Will you stay with me, until I wake up?"
G027 - Marybeth Witherspoon: "The cameras are pointing here, not there."
B115 - Tony Russo: "I'm sorry...."
G087 - Rachel Gettys: "I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell."
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ChetV
Cannon Fodder
ChetV
Cannon Fodder
Joined: August 13th, 2010, 7:58 pm

October 8th, 2010, 7:38 pm #10

"Holy crap, what the hell!"

Jake had no other words to say about what he just saw. For the first time, he witnessed a murder. He was startled and fell back, rustling the bushes around him. He struggled to get as far as he could, but realized he wouldn't last long without his bag. "Oh my god, where did I leave it," Jake whispered to himself as his breathing grew heavy. Jake started to look around desperately, but couldn't remember where he had left it. He might get me next. That was Jake's current thought. Not thinking straight, he decided to wait it out. He hid behind a group of bushes that he passed by. "Maybe he won't find me here." He tried to stop breathing so heavily and closed his eyes.

He was at the bushes he had left earlier.


Weapon: Cinderblock | "A GODDAMN CINDERBLOCK!" | Status: ALIVE | Location: The Swamp: Take, Eat

B154 - Johnathan "Johnny" McDowell | Weapon: Ornate music box with dancing ballerina | Status: ALIVE | Location: Southern Cliffs: Feeling Kind of Anxious
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