Kelsey was fascinated by the spray of blood and viscera.
S110: Start
Perhaps that wasn't the right word. Enraptured, entranced? She was no wordsmith. Point was, she couldn't get it out of her mind. Replaying it over and over again, taking in the lighting, the force, the physicality. How much spattered one way, and how much went the other. There was so much more nuance to it than she'd ever portrayed, but at the same time it was so... mundane? In real life, and real death, it didn't take place over five panels with a perfect fan of blood framed against some significantly poignant background object. It just happened, viewer be damned. A couple handfuls of gore flung outward without glinting dramatically in the light. Which was an absolute fuckload of neck meat to suddenly be out.
And then the aftermath. Oh, the aftermath. There was no artistic discretion about the jumbled mass that remained. And the closer you looked, the less of a jumbled, obscure mass of flesh it all was. There was order to it, all the more apparent in contrast to how swiftly and carelessly it had all been ripped apart. Just a continuous tear right through disparate layers and structures and types of tissue. Ground beef was a jumbled mass. Ground beef was not horrific to behold. She was well aware of how things went beneath the skin, of course. Usually as a consideration for how each layer sculpted the outward appearance. The actual beholding was more in her parents' wheelhouses, of course, and though they made no secret of them, it wasn't something they'd trotted out like vacation slides.
So yeah, maybe she was kind of fascinated by it.
It was by the same token that she was fascinated by the bag she'd been given. S110 stenciled on its side. S meant student, presumably. And 110 meant...
Fuck.
They kidnapped whole classes, that she knew. But seeing that number drove it all home with brutal efficiency. Not a day for gentle truths, that was certain. 110 kids destined to die at the very least. Or 109, she supposed. All the sins plus one. And probably a few more on top of that. Exactly how many had gone on the trip, anyway? Mathematically, it was poor judgement to assume you were an outlier and not an absolutely average example of something. Still, she hoped at least that she was near the end of the list. 109 was a horrifying number of students to be sentenced to death.
She considered for a second.
109 students was a horrifying number of students to be trying to kill her.
Which was all well and good for her to puzzle out, but it was a hell of a call to action to maybe try to do something about it. If someone caught her navel-gazing right out in the open like that, she'd be well and truly fucked, and not the fun kind. She looked around the room she'd woken up in, peered carefully into an open door set into the wall nearby. It was the entrance to a flight of stairs that descended into darkness below. That seemed like a good place not to go, but surely everyone else would be thinking the same thing? She gave the room another quick ocular patdown and stepped into the desiccated corpse of whatever the hell this settlement had been.
The place was cluttered, as far as she could see by the feeble shaft of interior light disgorged by the doorframe above. Boxes, furniture, assorted objects with the grand utility of making you feel nice and organized when you finally got around to putting them away somewhere out of sight for indefinite postponement of ever thinking about them again. Even the walls themselves seemed to have fallen victim to the general atmosphere, offloading stout wooden beams from where they belonged to where they were needed.
An old, sagging couch with coarse orange upholstering sat pushed up against a wall on the shore of the small pool of light within the space, and that seemed as good a place as any to take stock of things. Close enough to mostly see what she was doing, but far enough from anything to hopefully give warning of any unsolicited approach. Which she could of course respond to by, well... she examined, or rather, didn't examine what lay beyond the edges of what the light and took a deep breath to steady her heartbeat. She followed that with a deep sigh, and perched on one arm of the couch to dump her belongings onto the cushions.
Her duffel bag contained some food, a bit of extra clothing. A flashlight, which helped—she flicked it on to more finely see what the fuck she was doing—and what was apparently an inflatable sled in the shape of a snowmobile, which absolutely did not. Plus a pump to go along with it so she didn't waste every calorie that had snuck along with her just to blow the thing up to be more properly useless, which, whatever.
The olive metal box intrigued her, and not just for imagining how much someone might dislike being knocked around the head with it. There was an absolute embarrassment of medical supplies in there. Like, was it some sort of elaborate joke, giving them a dozen varieties of panacea that the vast majority would just mispronounce and never think about again? It was all useful, of course; she had at least a passing familiarity of everything she picked up and turned over in her slender fingers. Especially the lighter, which she pocketed. But maybe she was being too harsh. The bandages, the tweezers, maybe the hand wipes, even if those were the sum of what most kids ever thought to use, a lot of them probably never even got the chance to fail to patch themselves together as things progressed from precarious to lethal.
She sighed loudly, angling the flashlight's cone of illumination back and forth over the space. She sure hoped she'd get that chance. Considered for a second. Really hoped that she wouldn't.
Broken Angels, Wingless, Cast from Heaven's Gates
Our slumbering demons awake (open)
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 346
- Joined: Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:51 am
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CondorTalon
- Posts: 479
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 6:17 am
"Hello," a voice called out from within a prison of boxes as the ray of light passed over it.
"Welcome to the domain of trash. It's all trash. And where I feel most at home!"
"Get it? Cuz I'm trash. You probably get it."
"I may be stupid."
"Anyway, I-"
There was a dull thump and a sharp shout of pain as the pile of boxes rattled slightly.
"Ow, fuckin'...!"
There followed a sigh, and then silence.
"We're all dyin' tonight, bois."
"Welcome to the domain of trash. It's all trash. And where I feel most at home!"
"Get it? Cuz I'm trash. You probably get it."
"I may be stupid."
"Anyway, I-"
There was a dull thump and a sharp shout of pain as the pile of boxes rattled slightly.
"Ow, fuckin'...!"
There followed a sigh, and then silence.
"We're all dyin' tonight, bois."
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 346
- Joined: Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:51 am
She started violently, nearly ripping the flashlight from her own hand. Stared straight forward for a second as something built within her, burning cold, so tight in her chest that she felt as if she'd been speared straight through the shoulderblades. Someone was there. Someone was there, and she was going to... what?
Took a deep breath, watched in a near fugue state as her hands worked to replace the items she'd spilled out over the cushions, waiting for her mind to catch up. Those supplied were important. What else was important?
The voice carried on. That building feeling—fear, was it?—continued to churn despite the... interesting things the hidden speaker had to say. She slid to her feet and switched off her flashlight; that would be a literal beacon to her location. Bathed in the soft glow above, she'd still make a convenient silhouette to aim at. Perhaps enough ambient glow to make out her features, if that even meant anything. What to do about that, then? Worst case, the nearby stairs would still function as, you know, stairs. Good that she'd gotten that all figured out. She edged over to the borders of the light, for whatever that was worth, and spoke. It was breathless at first, feeble and clogged, building swiftly so as to nearly split her voice from the strain.
"What in the actual, corn fed, Kentucky fried FUCK are on about?"
Took a deep breath, watched in a near fugue state as her hands worked to replace the items she'd spilled out over the cushions, waiting for her mind to catch up. Those supplied were important. What else was important?
The voice carried on. That building feeling—fear, was it?—continued to churn despite the... interesting things the hidden speaker had to say. She slid to her feet and switched off her flashlight; that would be a literal beacon to her location. Bathed in the soft glow above, she'd still make a convenient silhouette to aim at. Perhaps enough ambient glow to make out her features, if that even meant anything. What to do about that, then? Worst case, the nearby stairs would still function as, you know, stairs. Good that she'd gotten that all figured out. She edged over to the borders of the light, for whatever that was worth, and spoke. It was breathless at first, feeble and clogged, building swiftly so as to nearly split her voice from the strain.
"What in the actual, corn fed, Kentucky fried FUCK are on about?"
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CondorTalon
- Posts: 479
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 6:17 am
"Hmm. That's a good question. Anyway..."
"So, uh... I know this is like, a really shitty situation and all, but uh... if you could get me out of here, it'd be much appreciated. They kinda just... uh... wedged me in here. Can't really move my arms or legs or anything."
To punctuate this point, several dull thuds, softer than the previous one, echoed through the vicinity.
"I tried to sit up. My forehead still stings. I think I hit a chair."
A low grunt, as if in realization.
"Wait, what if I..."
Thunk.
"Nope. Something's above my legs too. I think I can see the ceiling? There aren't boxes, like, right over me. Still... I don't want this whole thing to come crashing down on me."
"That would... uh... kinda suck."
"So, uh... I know this is like, a really shitty situation and all, but uh... if you could get me out of here, it'd be much appreciated. They kinda just... uh... wedged me in here. Can't really move my arms or legs or anything."
To punctuate this point, several dull thuds, softer than the previous one, echoed through the vicinity.
"I tried to sit up. My forehead still stings. I think I hit a chair."
A low grunt, as if in realization.
"Wait, what if I..."
Thunk.
"Nope. Something's above my legs too. I think I can see the ceiling? There aren't boxes, like, right over me. Still... I don't want this whole thing to come crashing down on me."
"That would... uh... kinda suck."
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 346
- Joined: Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:51 am
Oh.
The dregs of what she realized was anger—over the whole stupid situation, the brazen impingement on the barest scrap of security she could find, the dozen frantic thoughts and emotions that she should never have to feel all cascading by in a single moment—clung to her shoulders and the nape of her neck like a coating of sweat in clammy air. The temerity of someone to, uh, get wedged in somewhere by the terrorists. To be fair, whoever that was had been just a little bit of an absolute fucking weirdo about it, which ameliorated the shame over it somewhat.
Also, if this was some weird setup from someone who was actually just trying to position themselves to shoot her, they'd probably have done so already, so there was that.
"Yah, that... sucks for sure. I'll be right there," Kelsey said, and stepped back toward the couch with her things piled onto it. She picked up the flashlight, took a glance back over her shoulder. Finished dumping the medical supplies back into the container and closed it.
She turned and stood, rocking on her feet, on the edge of a dark forest of twisted and imposing and probably horribly mundane objects that she absolutely super duper wanted to dive right into. She flicked the light back on.
"Do you wanna just... yell when the light's over you or something? Just not like in a super weird way this time?" She sighed again and rolled her eyes and stepped forward toward where she supposed the voice had come from.
The dregs of what she realized was anger—over the whole stupid situation, the brazen impingement on the barest scrap of security she could find, the dozen frantic thoughts and emotions that she should never have to feel all cascading by in a single moment—clung to her shoulders and the nape of her neck like a coating of sweat in clammy air. The temerity of someone to, uh, get wedged in somewhere by the terrorists. To be fair, whoever that was had been just a little bit of an absolute fucking weirdo about it, which ameliorated the shame over it somewhat.
Also, if this was some weird setup from someone who was actually just trying to position themselves to shoot her, they'd probably have done so already, so there was that.
"Yah, that... sucks for sure. I'll be right there," Kelsey said, and stepped back toward the couch with her things piled onto it. She picked up the flashlight, took a glance back over her shoulder. Finished dumping the medical supplies back into the container and closed it.
She turned and stood, rocking on her feet, on the edge of a dark forest of twisted and imposing and probably horribly mundane objects that she absolutely super duper wanted to dive right into. She flicked the light back on.
"Do you wanna just... yell when the light's over you or something? Just not like in a super weird way this time?" She sighed again and rolled her eyes and stepped forward toward where she supposed the voice had come from.
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CondorTalon
- Posts: 479
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 6:17 am
"Sure, sure. I can't guarantee the 'not being weird' part though, soz. Brought up on Tumblr and all that. Too much on the Internet for my own good... especially now that we're here, in this place with none... Sorry, I'm rambling. I'll shut up now."
The ray of the flashlight creeped closer and closer to the source of the voice, until it landed in a particularly furniture-dense corner of the room.
"I see it! I see the light!" Spoken like a true televangelist.
The light illuminated a haphazard stacking of furniture and boxes. A rather large couch faced the wall, holding a variety of cardboard boxes on its seats. There were also a handful of chairs and tables, as well as stacks of wooden crates. On one of the wooden crates, clearly visible in the center of the flashlight beam, two bags. One red, with a plethora of keychains and buttons on, the other tan. Plain. The characters S006 clearly visible on the side. Below that, leaning against the side of the crate, a long tool that maybe could have looked like an axe.
"Um, my neck is getting kind of sore, acually. It's this damn collar, I'm pre-he-hetty sure. Can you see me? Well, actually, uh, probably not, since I can't see you."
Perhaps there was a hint of desperation starting to creep into the voice.
The ray of the flashlight creeped closer and closer to the source of the voice, until it landed in a particularly furniture-dense corner of the room.
"I see it! I see the light!" Spoken like a true televangelist.
The light illuminated a haphazard stacking of furniture and boxes. A rather large couch faced the wall, holding a variety of cardboard boxes on its seats. There were also a handful of chairs and tables, as well as stacks of wooden crates. On one of the wooden crates, clearly visible in the center of the flashlight beam, two bags. One red, with a plethora of keychains and buttons on, the other tan. Plain. The characters S006 clearly visible on the side. Below that, leaning against the side of the crate, a long tool that maybe could have looked like an axe.
"Um, my neck is getting kind of sore, acually. It's this damn collar, I'm pre-he-hetty sure. Can you see me? Well, actually, uh, probably not, since I can't see you."
Perhaps there was a hint of desperation starting to creep into the voice.
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Applesintime
- Posts: 447
- Joined: Fri Jul 03, 2020 8:46 pm
- Location: In a magical place
((Alex Avanesian continued from Transmitter Failure))
From the flight of stairs that descended down into the murky dark below came the faint sound of someone running, panting, a beam of light briefly flickering up the stairs for a second before silence descended again.
From the flight of stairs that descended down into the murky dark below came the faint sound of someone running, panting, a beam of light briefly flickering up the stairs for a second before silence descended again.
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 346
- Joined: Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:51 am
She really was buried under there, huh?
Kelsey reached the spot she was pretty sure the voice was coming from, and took a few steps more, trying to see if whoever exactly that girl was—she couldn't 100% place the voice—was merely behind something instead of completely under. That sounded like a lot less lifting. She'd heard the sound of some junk or other falling over, so if she just tried to find where something had clearly been disturbed?
Because, you know, this was just her grandma's living room and she knew exactly where everything was supposed to go. She rolled her eyes and took another step.
That brought her within reaching distance of that deflated-looking axe. Images flashed through her mind. Dirt, dried blood, fresh blood. Gouges marring the handle. A bullet hole maybe? It was clear what the tool's intended purpose here was. What would be its ultimate fate? How would it look when all was said and done, when she herself—maybe, probably, swear to fucking God if they really just let it all happen again—wouldn't be around any more to see it?
Something moved behind her. Maybe. Just quiet enough to make her doubt. Just loud enough that she was pretty sure she wasn't hallucinating. Why had she decided to come down here into the dark, exactly?
She grabbed the axe. It wasn't hers, but that was a pretty strange thing to think, all things considered. And it would help.
"Hey," she said in a low voice, "I'm not 100%, but I maaay have heard someone here, so uh,"
She paused for a second, imagining what sort of magical outfit would go with a rescuing angel wielding what looked like the product of a love affair between a fire axe and an oversized drinky bird. That GIF of Mercy rescuing a girl in her Meet the Overwatches video, except instead of the girl being labeled with '1930s movie producers trying to shoot a snowy scene in the summer' and Mercy with 'Asbestos,' it was just 'Whoever the fuck is under there' and 'Whatever the fuck this is.'
Anyway, she hooked the point into the closest object that happened to be on top of another object and started knocking things over.
Kelsey reached the spot she was pretty sure the voice was coming from, and took a few steps more, trying to see if whoever exactly that girl was—she couldn't 100% place the voice—was merely behind something instead of completely under. That sounded like a lot less lifting. She'd heard the sound of some junk or other falling over, so if she just tried to find where something had clearly been disturbed?
Because, you know, this was just her grandma's living room and she knew exactly where everything was supposed to go. She rolled her eyes and took another step.
That brought her within reaching distance of that deflated-looking axe. Images flashed through her mind. Dirt, dried blood, fresh blood. Gouges marring the handle. A bullet hole maybe? It was clear what the tool's intended purpose here was. What would be its ultimate fate? How would it look when all was said and done, when she herself—maybe, probably, swear to fucking God if they really just let it all happen again—wouldn't be around any more to see it?
Something moved behind her. Maybe. Just quiet enough to make her doubt. Just loud enough that she was pretty sure she wasn't hallucinating. Why had she decided to come down here into the dark, exactly?
She grabbed the axe. It wasn't hers, but that was a pretty strange thing to think, all things considered. And it would help.
"Hey," she said in a low voice, "I'm not 100%, but I maaay have heard someone here, so uh,"
She paused for a second, imagining what sort of magical outfit would go with a rescuing angel wielding what looked like the product of a love affair between a fire axe and an oversized drinky bird. That GIF of Mercy rescuing a girl in her Meet the Overwatches video, except instead of the girl being labeled with '1930s movie producers trying to shoot a snowy scene in the summer' and Mercy with 'Asbestos,' it was just 'Whoever the fuck is under there' and 'Whatever the fuck this is.'
Anyway, she hooked the point into the closest object that happened to be on top of another object and started knocking things over.
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CondorTalon
- Posts: 479
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 6:17 am
One by one, the rickety prison fell apart to the girl's careful[citation needed] demolition[citation needed]. Eventually, the cage was dismantled enough that the girl could see a red jacket. Well, perhaps not in the dark, but still... there was definitely a person there, lying on the ground.
A person who now had an avenue to wriggle into a position where they could shimmy out. And with that,
Shannon had reclaimed her personhood.
S006 - SHANNON CHOI: START
Well, 'reclaimed her personhood' was a bit of a stretch. It wasn't like she'd had her identity stolen. She'd simply been trapped in a physical and emotional prison. Of her own design, for the latter, but not so for the former. After all, what she'd said earlier was in fact true. Being without Internet for any amount of time would suck, nevermind the fact that she was on bloody SOTF, of all things.
GREAT.
At first, she'd tried not to think about it, but 'don't think about it' is the number one worst way to get someone to not think about something, so instead she'd tried to think about something else. Like Tumblr. And how she couldn't go on it right now. So yeah, that wasn't helping either.
She slowly sat up, making extra sure that she wasn't going to bump her head on a different chair that had somehow manifested above her head, and looked to her savior. And she'd heard what the girl had said just short moments ago. There may have been someone else here with them. Shannon didn't really have to try hard to think of all the possibilities of whether or not that person (who may or may not exist) was friendly or not. They were already flying through her head, and they were making quite an unpleasant noise.
So instead she tried to think about something else. She looked at the girl's purple highlights, and the mask she was wearing, and whispered the first that came to her mind.
"You look like a VTuber."
A person who now had an avenue to wriggle into a position where they could shimmy out. And with that,
Shannon had reclaimed her personhood.
S006 - SHANNON CHOI: START
Well, 'reclaimed her personhood' was a bit of a stretch. It wasn't like she'd had her identity stolen. She'd simply been trapped in a physical and emotional prison. Of her own design, for the latter, but not so for the former. After all, what she'd said earlier was in fact true. Being without Internet for any amount of time would suck, nevermind the fact that she was on bloody SOTF, of all things.
GREAT.
At first, she'd tried not to think about it, but 'don't think about it' is the number one worst way to get someone to not think about something, so instead she'd tried to think about something else. Like Tumblr. And how she couldn't go on it right now. So yeah, that wasn't helping either.
She slowly sat up, making extra sure that she wasn't going to bump her head on a different chair that had somehow manifested above her head, and looked to her savior. And she'd heard what the girl had said just short moments ago. There may have been someone else here with them. Shannon didn't really have to try hard to think of all the possibilities of whether or not that person (who may or may not exist) was friendly or not. They were already flying through her head, and they were making quite an unpleasant noise.
So instead she tried to think about something else. She looked at the girl's purple highlights, and the mask she was wearing, and whispered the first that came to her mind.
"You look like a VTuber."
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Applesintime
- Posts: 447
- Joined: Fri Jul 03, 2020 8:46 pm
- Location: In a magical place
Climbing up the stairs leading from the tunnels, spear in one hand and flashlight in the other, Alex slowed down. The adrenaline had started to wear off now, and all he could think about was how badly he'd fucked up. That probably wasn't gonna kill Evie, and now he had two people running around who knew his intention to start playing. And if they met more people, they'd warn them, and it became just a little more difficult to stab someone in the back.
It was a matter of time now, anyway. He'd been awake for a while. People would have had the same thoughts as him; not many, but there'd be people drawn to the allure of escape, of victory. So, maybe two, three dead. If he was very, very lucky, Claire and Evie would run into a prospective player and that would be that.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Alex flashed his light around the room. It looked dingy. Like something that'd just been abandoned twenty years ago and never touched again - which, yeah, was the kind of place the ATs would just love to claim as their little arena for SOTF.
He could hear talking, shuffling from a doorway nearby. Looked like it led to wherever the entrance for this place was, with the thin ray of light illuminating what looked like some kind of hallway. It looked artificial, the same glow as one of those high-durability bulbs. He had nowhere better to go, so with a click the flashlight died and Alex stepped out into the hallway, glancing to his left to confirm that yeah, it looked like it led up into a building.
Then, he glanced to his right to be met with two girls.
"Uh. H-hey."
Alex raised his free hand.
It was a matter of time now, anyway. He'd been awake for a while. People would have had the same thoughts as him; not many, but there'd be people drawn to the allure of escape, of victory. So, maybe two, three dead. If he was very, very lucky, Claire and Evie would run into a prospective player and that would be that.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Alex flashed his light around the room. It looked dingy. Like something that'd just been abandoned twenty years ago and never touched again - which, yeah, was the kind of place the ATs would just love to claim as their little arena for SOTF.
He could hear talking, shuffling from a doorway nearby. Looked like it led to wherever the entrance for this place was, with the thin ray of light illuminating what looked like some kind of hallway. It looked artificial, the same glow as one of those high-durability bulbs. He had nowhere better to go, so with a click the flashlight died and Alex stepped out into the hallway, glancing to his left to confirm that yeah, it looked like it led up into a building.
Then, he glanced to his right to be met with two girls.
"Uh. H-hey."
Alex raised his free hand.
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 346
- Joined: Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:51 am
Your mom looks like a VTuber.
"Thanks," Kelsey said flatly. Coming from the girl who'd unfolded herself into being in front of her, she wasn't entirely sure if it was actually a dig. More important, the girl seemed, well, human? It seemed a little dumb to think about, but yeah, they were all real actual human children here. Not that she was primed and ready to take on the entire class in a fight, but maybe, she reminded herself, she wouldn't have to. There was time enough to chat and huddle together and talk about the experience of reaching for your phone in your pocket when you knew it wasn't there any more, and then laughing about it and reaching for it again. For now.
She lowered the axe, let its head rest on the floor. Kept her grip around the handle.
"Your bag's over there, by the way" she said, gesturing with her free hand. "I left mine back back by the stairs. You got a flashlight too, I think. And a really nice first-aid kit." She smiled behind her mask, the sympathetic motion of her eyebrows occluded by her bangs and the harsh dimness of the single-source light. It was the thought that counted.
Pause. Footstep?
Her gaze snagged on the girl's collar. She'd felt hers, technically saw one herself in the little presentation they'd been given. Not up close yet, though. Slick and uniform outside. Secrets beneath. And the capability to do... that. Just like their wearers. She almost had a stupid, nervous giggle at the overwrought drama of that thought. The one that came after wasn't all that much better, that she prooobably looked, you know, kinda good in hers? She shouldn't let the absolute fucking bottom in her take the wheel like that, but she did love her chokers, and the whole slave collar thing was An Aesthetic.
Another footstep, for sure. She wheeled toward its source.
"Fuck."
The axe head left the ground, weak one-handed grip or no.
"Thanks," Kelsey said flatly. Coming from the girl who'd unfolded herself into being in front of her, she wasn't entirely sure if it was actually a dig. More important, the girl seemed, well, human? It seemed a little dumb to think about, but yeah, they were all real actual human children here. Not that she was primed and ready to take on the entire class in a fight, but maybe, she reminded herself, she wouldn't have to. There was time enough to chat and huddle together and talk about the experience of reaching for your phone in your pocket when you knew it wasn't there any more, and then laughing about it and reaching for it again. For now.
She lowered the axe, let its head rest on the floor. Kept her grip around the handle.
"Your bag's over there, by the way" she said, gesturing with her free hand. "I left mine back back by the stairs. You got a flashlight too, I think. And a really nice first-aid kit." She smiled behind her mask, the sympathetic motion of her eyebrows occluded by her bangs and the harsh dimness of the single-source light. It was the thought that counted.
Pause. Footstep?
Her gaze snagged on the girl's collar. She'd felt hers, technically saw one herself in the little presentation they'd been given. Not up close yet, though. Slick and uniform outside. Secrets beneath. And the capability to do... that. Just like their wearers. She almost had a stupid, nervous giggle at the overwrought drama of that thought. The one that came after wasn't all that much better, that she prooobably looked, you know, kinda good in hers? She shouldn't let the absolute fucking bottom in her take the wheel like that, but she did love her chokers, and the whole slave collar thing was An Aesthetic.
Another footstep, for sure. She wheeled toward its source.
"Fuck."
The axe head left the ground, weak one-handed grip or no.
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CondorTalon
- Posts: 479
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 6:17 am
"Oh, cool. I love... bag," Shannon said, mostly to herself.
She slowly and hesitantly stood up, feeling the soreness slowly spread through her body as it locked into a configuration and it hadn't been in since she woke up. The floor was very cold and hard after all. She looked to the other girl, giving her a weak smile and thumbs up. She moved slowly, her hand feeling its way across the tops of crates and furniture and presumably getting way dustier than she would have ever wanted it to be in her life. Just like the other girl said, there it was, her bag resting neatly on some crates. Her hand brushed against it, before brushing against another bag that definitely wasn't hers. She leaned in to take a closer look at what it was, when a sudden noise made her turn around, in tandem with the other girl's expletive.
There was someone else there, standing like a deer in headlights with his hand in the air.
"Hey? Who are you?"
Well, she certainly didn't recognize him at a glance, definitely not in this darkness where the only source of illumination messed up the white balance of the composition.
Dang, that was almost a clever thought. Amelia would be so proud of her.
Then, she noticed what the boy was holding, and what was probably, hopefully not, but possibly...
A short, low squawk came out of her throat, and she stepped back, her foot bumping against something. Her head turned and her eyes flicked down to the chair she'd butted with.
She slowly and hesitantly stood up, feeling the soreness slowly spread through her body as it locked into a configuration and it hadn't been in since she woke up. The floor was very cold and hard after all. She looked to the other girl, giving her a weak smile and thumbs up. She moved slowly, her hand feeling its way across the tops of crates and furniture and presumably getting way dustier than she would have ever wanted it to be in her life. Just like the other girl said, there it was, her bag resting neatly on some crates. Her hand brushed against it, before brushing against another bag that definitely wasn't hers. She leaned in to take a closer look at what it was, when a sudden noise made her turn around, in tandem with the other girl's expletive.
There was someone else there, standing like a deer in headlights with his hand in the air.
"Hey? Who are you?"
Well, she certainly didn't recognize him at a glance, definitely not in this darkness where the only source of illumination messed up the white balance of the composition.
Dang, that was almost a clever thought. Amelia would be so proud of her.
Then, she noticed what the boy was holding, and what was probably, hopefully not, but possibly...
A short, low squawk came out of her throat, and she stepped back, her foot bumping against something. Her head turned and her eyes flicked down to the chair she'd butted with.
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Applesintime
- Posts: 447
- Joined: Fri Jul 03, 2020 8:46 pm
- Location: In a magical place
Alex took a step backwards. One girl had raised something that looked like an axe, and the other one had made some kinda noise and then stepped back. He didn't want to get into another fight again, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to try killing someone again. Everything had been so, so vivid compared to camera footage viewed from a laptop in the comfort of his own home. But, but, but he kept telling himself that this was SOTF. Death was the inevitable fate of 99 percent of the people on this island.
"I don't- I'm not, I'm not gonna hurt anyone. I, I," glancing down with wide eyes, it was only now that Alex realised that there was clearly blood on the blade of his spear. None of it had gotten on him, but he hadn't had the chance to wash it or rub it off on someone. "I, I'm Alex." Taking a few more steps backwards, he glanced behind him, making sure that if he needed to he had a clear path to get out of this place.
"I don't- I'm not, I'm not gonna hurt anyone. I, I," glancing down with wide eyes, it was only now that Alex realised that there was clearly blood on the blade of his spear. None of it had gotten on him, but he hadn't had the chance to wash it or rub it off on someone. "I, I'm Alex." Taking a few more steps backwards, he glanced behind him, making sure that if he needed to he had a clear path to get out of this place.
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 346
- Joined: Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:51 am
Kelsey hadn't expected this to happen so soon.
The business end of a spear in her general direction, bearing the crimson sheen of iniquity. Dripping and shining and oozing with it. A true-to-life display of subsurface scattering, she couldn't help acknowledging, and stuffed that thought roughly to a far-flung corner of her mind. Focused the rest on navigating the Big Moment that was occurring without her consent. The threat before her. The useless fucking damsel behind her—which excuse you, Kelsey was supposed to be the one huddled almost-safely behind someone big and strong and cute, thank you very much. And right in the middle, the weapon in her own hand, the weight of it, her reach and her reactions and her convictions. She'd drawn girls in her spot before, with bright hair and short skirts and capital-J Justice as a physical law of the universe. And what was she to do, then?
Spear Asshole seemed ready to flit away at a moment's notice. By his bearing, he'd probably rather do something more direct and dramatic like ooze directly into the floor or something. And she could let him. Whoops. Sorry. Awkward that we attempted to exist in the same spot for a moment. Let's go on existing in distinctly different spots now, and make nothing more of it.
But...
But what? What other outcome was she seeking? She knew the most likely outcome of goading someone stronger and faster with a longer weapon into action against her and her deformed little axe: 'Here lies Kelsey, or would if they hadn't burned her rotting corpse on an island in Bumfuck, Atlantic(?) Ocean. She got last place in a terrorist attack. How do you even get last place in a terrorist attack, anyway? Her grave will save us the cost of installing a lightning rod.'
Proud angels would bathe in their wages of blood here, that was certain. Just not exactly the way the song envisioned it.
So, again, why? Maybe it just didn't all feel quite real yet, though Spear Asshole was doing their best to erode that as quickly as possible. Flames coursed through her veins. The audacity to tear it all away. To leave her not one single moment where she could pretend that normalcy and decency still existed and that she wasn't in mortal danger.
There it was.
"Who..." she said, panting. Committing. Setting herself securely on the path of elaboration; there was no pawning that off onto some passing, accusatory owl.
"Whose blood...?" Weak. Uncertain. Aghast. She swallowed, took a deep breath. Do it right this time.
"Whose fucking blood is that?"
The business end of a spear in her general direction, bearing the crimson sheen of iniquity. Dripping and shining and oozing with it. A true-to-life display of subsurface scattering, she couldn't help acknowledging, and stuffed that thought roughly to a far-flung corner of her mind. Focused the rest on navigating the Big Moment that was occurring without her consent. The threat before her. The useless fucking damsel behind her—which excuse you, Kelsey was supposed to be the one huddled almost-safely behind someone big and strong and cute, thank you very much. And right in the middle, the weapon in her own hand, the weight of it, her reach and her reactions and her convictions. She'd drawn girls in her spot before, with bright hair and short skirts and capital-J Justice as a physical law of the universe. And what was she to do, then?
Spear Asshole seemed ready to flit away at a moment's notice. By his bearing, he'd probably rather do something more direct and dramatic like ooze directly into the floor or something. And she could let him. Whoops. Sorry. Awkward that we attempted to exist in the same spot for a moment. Let's go on existing in distinctly different spots now, and make nothing more of it.
But...
But what? What other outcome was she seeking? She knew the most likely outcome of goading someone stronger and faster with a longer weapon into action against her and her deformed little axe: 'Here lies Kelsey, or would if they hadn't burned her rotting corpse on an island in Bumfuck, Atlantic(?) Ocean. She got last place in a terrorist attack. How do you even get last place in a terrorist attack, anyway? Her grave will save us the cost of installing a lightning rod.'
Proud angels would bathe in their wages of blood here, that was certain. Just not exactly the way the song envisioned it.
So, again, why? Maybe it just didn't all feel quite real yet, though Spear Asshole was doing their best to erode that as quickly as possible. Flames coursed through her veins. The audacity to tear it all away. To leave her not one single moment where she could pretend that normalcy and decency still existed and that she wasn't in mortal danger.
There it was.
"Who..." she said, panting. Committing. Setting herself securely on the path of elaboration; there was no pawning that off onto some passing, accusatory owl.
"Whose blood...?" Weak. Uncertain. Aghast. She swallowed, took a deep breath. Do it right this time.
"Whose fucking blood is that?"
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PlatFleece
- Posts: 84
- Joined: Fri Apr 02, 2021 10:29 pm
S124 - Maya Press - START
When Maya first awoke here, she had a major headache. She hadn't yet understood the gravity of what was going on, but the darkness and the smell, and the dust certainly made her realize what was happening. She was tossed behind some used sofa, in a corner that nobody would even think to look. She had to wonder whether she was placed here intentionally or not. Then she heard noises, other people, speaking, already conversing. She did the only thing she thought she could do, stay silent.
For a moment, it worked. Nobody noticed her, everyone was focused on each other. She overheard their conversations, taking in as much as she could. Her body hurt, cramped tight for who knows how many hours it's been since she was out. She wanted to sneeze, to cough, the dust getting into her throat. She felt a weight, a backpack and some equipment, that she hadn't even tried to check on yet, but she kept quiet, because her brain was in fight-or-flight mode right now, and the smartest thing to do is to escape when they all leave.
And then there were more footsteps, which led to talk of blood. A weapon? Someone killed someone maybe? And then a voice that became louder, threatening. Maya held her breath, bit her hand to keep herself from making a sound, but ultimately... she made a cracking noise on the floor.
When Maya first awoke here, she had a major headache. She hadn't yet understood the gravity of what was going on, but the darkness and the smell, and the dust certainly made her realize what was happening. She was tossed behind some used sofa, in a corner that nobody would even think to look. She had to wonder whether she was placed here intentionally or not. Then she heard noises, other people, speaking, already conversing. She did the only thing she thought she could do, stay silent.
For a moment, it worked. Nobody noticed her, everyone was focused on each other. She overheard their conversations, taking in as much as she could. Her body hurt, cramped tight for who knows how many hours it's been since she was out. She wanted to sneeze, to cough, the dust getting into her throat. She felt a weight, a backpack and some equipment, that she hadn't even tried to check on yet, but she kept quiet, because her brain was in fight-or-flight mode right now, and the smartest thing to do is to escape when they all leave.
And then there were more footsteps, which led to talk of blood. A weapon? Someone killed someone maybe? And then a voice that became louder, threatening. Maya held her breath, bit her hand to keep herself from making a sound, but ultimately... she made a cracking noise on the floor.