G28 - start
G28 - start
Thunk.
Well, whaddya know: it stuck. Lani had been throwing her designated weapon at the same tree for, well, she didn't quite know how long it had been; an hour at least, probably several. Her arm was getting fairly tired. She walked over and pulled the dagger from the tree, keeping her thumb where the blade just stuck from the bark. The thing had sunk a good two inches or so. Was it a fluke, or was she actually getting the hang of motionless targets?
She hadn't left the spot since she woke up. What reason did she have to do so? The forest wasn't a danger zone, and it didn't seem that anyone else was too nearby. Besides, she was pissed at the terrorists for scaring her sober on the bus; why should she do what they wanted her to do? She could probably just stay here for days. If she got good enough throwing this knife, she could probably knock off anyone who did come nearby and not have to worry about close fighting. Of course, that was a one shot deal. If she were to miss, she'd be completely unarmed. That, however, might be better. She was getting progressively more bloodthirsty as time went on. She wanted to hurt someone; it didn't really matter whom. She wanted to punch something; if it caused pain, even better. As it was, throwing the sharp and shiny metal blade at a tree was satisfying enough.
She first started completely uselessly. She had thrown the knife at something, anything in anger, or something similar to anger. The handle would hit, bouncing off to the side somewhere, or else she missed completely. That just pissed her off even more. By the end of day one she was at least hitting the tree, usually with the blade. Not necessarily straight on with the point, but she assumed it would at least be a nasty scratch for a person. She'd given up for a while, walked around a bit, and slept. And now the sun was already pretty far west of day two.
Thunk.
These days are closing in.
The end has become apparent.
We're only here for so long.
Will anyone remember my name
when time has washed away
the dust...of my ashes?
Lani wondered how many others were on the island. Was it just her class? The other Survival of the Fittest had had way too many people to be from just two buses of kids. Did it really matter? She didn't think any of them actively wanted to kill her specifically. Hell, even the people in her class barely knew she existed. She didn't fear death, why should she? Death was just some guy in a black robe with a scythe anyway, well, or that blanket of darkness, of nothingness. Why fear nothing? It was exactly that: nothing. No, it was the pain before death that she wasn't a real big fan of. She really hoped these woods were large enough to avoid people in.
What's out there?
What is my eternal fate?
It once hit me
that this life...is just a state.
I'm scared to death
of what's to come.
Lani wasn't one to live in the past, but there were a few people, well, one perhaps two, who she would have liked to talk to, even for just a minute. Her parents could go fuck themselves for all she cared, but there was at least that one person...she'd never said anything of the sort to. It didn't matter much anyway, especially now. He probably didn't even realize she existed.
All those things you couldn't say, you should have said
All those "I love you"s lost
weighed more like lead on your chest.
But she was weak, and that's why she was here. She didn't know what could have been done, but it was clear that it was all her fault. She just...she just didn't deserve to be happy, to be with the rest of the world watching this instead of acting it out. If she had just been somehow better, this wouldn't have happened. She wouldn't be here; the people she knew wouldn't be here. It was all her own fault.
If I could take back all those misspent days,
every second of anger,
I would wash my sins away.
It was all her own fucking fault.
Thunk.
Well, whaddya know: it stuck. Lani had been throwing her designated weapon at the same tree for, well, she didn't quite know how long it had been; an hour at least, probably several. Her arm was getting fairly tired. She walked over and pulled the dagger from the tree, keeping her thumb where the blade just stuck from the bark. The thing had sunk a good two inches or so. Was it a fluke, or was she actually getting the hang of motionless targets?
She hadn't left the spot since she woke up. What reason did she have to do so? The forest wasn't a danger zone, and it didn't seem that anyone else was too nearby. Besides, she was pissed at the terrorists for scaring her sober on the bus; why should she do what they wanted her to do? She could probably just stay here for days. If she got good enough throwing this knife, she could probably knock off anyone who did come nearby and not have to worry about close fighting. Of course, that was a one shot deal. If she were to miss, she'd be completely unarmed. That, however, might be better. She was getting progressively more bloodthirsty as time went on. She wanted to hurt someone; it didn't really matter whom. She wanted to punch something; if it caused pain, even better. As it was, throwing the sharp and shiny metal blade at a tree was satisfying enough.
She first started completely uselessly. She had thrown the knife at something, anything in anger, or something similar to anger. The handle would hit, bouncing off to the side somewhere, or else she missed completely. That just pissed her off even more. By the end of day one she was at least hitting the tree, usually with the blade. Not necessarily straight on with the point, but she assumed it would at least be a nasty scratch for a person. She'd given up for a while, walked around a bit, and slept. And now the sun was already pretty far west of day two.
Thunk.
These days are closing in.
The end has become apparent.
We're only here for so long.
Will anyone remember my name
when time has washed away
the dust...of my ashes?
Lani wondered how many others were on the island. Was it just her class? The other Survival of the Fittest had had way too many people to be from just two buses of kids. Did it really matter? She didn't think any of them actively wanted to kill her specifically. Hell, even the people in her class barely knew she existed. She didn't fear death, why should she? Death was just some guy in a black robe with a scythe anyway, well, or that blanket of darkness, of nothingness. Why fear nothing? It was exactly that: nothing. No, it was the pain before death that she wasn't a real big fan of. She really hoped these woods were large enough to avoid people in.
What's out there?
What is my eternal fate?
It once hit me
that this life...is just a state.
I'm scared to death
of what's to come.
Lani wasn't one to live in the past, but there were a few people, well, one perhaps two, who she would have liked to talk to, even for just a minute. Her parents could go fuck themselves for all she cared, but there was at least that one person...she'd never said anything of the sort to. It didn't matter much anyway, especially now. He probably didn't even realize she existed.
All those things you couldn't say, you should have said
All those "I love you"s lost
weighed more like lead on your chest.
But she was weak, and that's why she was here. She didn't know what could have been done, but it was clear that it was all her fault. She just...she just didn't deserve to be happy, to be with the rest of the world watching this instead of acting it out. If she had just been somehow better, this wouldn't have happened. She wouldn't be here; the people she knew wouldn't be here. It was all her own fault.
If I could take back all those misspent days,
every second of anger,
I would wash my sins away.
It was all her own fucking fault.
Thunk.
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- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
<<Continued from Nightfall and the River>>
Harry's hands hurt like hell. He was tired, dirty, covered in someone's blood, and he had just killed a girl he'd never met before in his life. He looked like something out of a bad B-Horror Movie. It really was a shame. Well, what did he expect out of "participating " in SOTF?
He'd been walking for a while now, trudging along until he met someone. Something in him yearned for a bit of peace. He'd found nothing except violence and hatred since he arrived on the bloody ground of the island, and had never even really had a chance to sit down. Since the incident at the river, Harry'd found a path and just began walking. And somehow, it led him to what the map called "The Cliffs". It sounded slightly alluring.
Jumping off the edge, Harry supposed, would be a hell of a way to go. That final rush, the second or two that you felt like you were flying, hell, it sounded pretty damn good. His hands ached a bit more. The neosprin he rubbed on seemed to be working, for all intents and purposes. It made his raw hands burn a little, but that was a good thing, right? Neosporin always burned when he'd used it before. Sparring wreaked havoc on your body.He'd gotten a lot of cuts and bruises sparring.
The trees began to thin out, and he could see a girl, throwing a knife at a tree. This seems familiar... Harry thought to himself. Briefly, he thought of avoiding the girl and continuing on his journey to the edge, but it was quickly overruled. He had to prove to himself that there was someone worth saving on the island. That's what had been bugging him the entire time. He wasn't sure if anyone was worth saving after the massive body count, as terrible as it sounded. Harry silently cursed himself again.
The girl seemed to be content throwing her knife at the tree. Maybe I should just leave her be; once the next announcement rolls on in, no-one would want to be around me. Harry paused in his mental angsting for a moment. Wait, did I actually just care about what other people thought of me? Hell, I'm getting to old for this shit. And so, Harry resolved to walk up to her.
He made sure to make a little noise before he appeared; he didn't want a repeat of last time. Also, she had a throwing knife, which was a lot more dangerous than a club. Harry decided to keep the gun and the club in the bottom of his bag for now. He didn't want to scare the girl any more than necessary. As he broke cover he held both hands up.
"Hey there Dead-eye, I'm not looking for a fight. My name's Harry, by the way. Lovely weather today, would you say?" Harry tried to grin disarmingly, but he figured his exhaustion shone through like an atomic explosion. He could have sworn that it was it's own form of energy, pushing him on.
Harry's knees were beginning to think that everything was going on
quickly, and should take a pause while they just collapsed, but Harry's brain cut in and pointed out that collapsing infront of a girl with a knife was not the best move. Through force of will alone, he remained standing.
Harry's hands hurt like hell. He was tired, dirty, covered in someone's blood, and he had just killed a girl he'd never met before in his life. He looked like something out of a bad B-Horror Movie. It really was a shame. Well, what did he expect out of "participating " in SOTF?
He'd been walking for a while now, trudging along until he met someone. Something in him yearned for a bit of peace. He'd found nothing except violence and hatred since he arrived on the bloody ground of the island, and had never even really had a chance to sit down. Since the incident at the river, Harry'd found a path and just began walking. And somehow, it led him to what the map called "The Cliffs". It sounded slightly alluring.
Jumping off the edge, Harry supposed, would be a hell of a way to go. That final rush, the second or two that you felt like you were flying, hell, it sounded pretty damn good. His hands ached a bit more. The neosprin he rubbed on seemed to be working, for all intents and purposes. It made his raw hands burn a little, but that was a good thing, right? Neosporin always burned when he'd used it before. Sparring wreaked havoc on your body.He'd gotten a lot of cuts and bruises sparring.
The trees began to thin out, and he could see a girl, throwing a knife at a tree. This seems familiar... Harry thought to himself. Briefly, he thought of avoiding the girl and continuing on his journey to the edge, but it was quickly overruled. He had to prove to himself that there was someone worth saving on the island. That's what had been bugging him the entire time. He wasn't sure if anyone was worth saving after the massive body count, as terrible as it sounded. Harry silently cursed himself again.
The girl seemed to be content throwing her knife at the tree. Maybe I should just leave her be; once the next announcement rolls on in, no-one would want to be around me. Harry paused in his mental angsting for a moment. Wait, did I actually just care about what other people thought of me? Hell, I'm getting to old for this shit. And so, Harry resolved to walk up to her.
He made sure to make a little noise before he appeared; he didn't want a repeat of last time. Also, she had a throwing knife, which was a lot more dangerous than a club. Harry decided to keep the gun and the club in the bottom of his bag for now. He didn't want to scare the girl any more than necessary. As he broke cover he held both hands up.
"Hey there Dead-eye, I'm not looking for a fight. My name's Harry, by the way. Lovely weather today, would you say?" Harry tried to grin disarmingly, but he figured his exhaustion shone through like an atomic explosion. He could have sworn that it was it's own form of energy, pushing him on.
Harry's knees were beginning to think that everything was going on
quickly, and should take a pause while they just collapsed, but Harry's brain cut in and pointed out that collapsing infront of a girl with a knife was not the best move. Through force of will alone, he remained standing.
Lani yanked the blade from her tree once more, and returned to where she had been sitting on her given bag. She nearly threw it again, just as half heartedly as before, but stopped as she heard something behind her, the snapping of a twig, and then a heavy step.
Damn!
She dropped the dagger as a sharp pain bit into the palm of her hand. Oh this was wonderful. Even in something she'd been working on for hours she messed up. Figures. It seemed to matter a little less, however, when the source of the noise came into the relative open, hands in the air. "Hey there, Dead-eye." Yeah, like mocking someone was a good idea on this island. It was liable to get you a fight if you wanted one or not.
The guy looked about her age maybe not that age differed much on the island any way. He was taller than her by at least a head, and though he didn't have any weapons showing, Lani was not about to count out the possibility that he could beat the shit out of her. On the other hand, he brought up the weather of all things, and with the oddest expression she'd seen in a while. It made him look a little less than sane.
"I might. You're not some lunatic, are you, playing the part of an erudite gentleman before slicing out a few organs to make a delicious, cannibalistic meal out of?"
She hardly expected the kind of thinking (or lack thereof) brought on by the situation here to actually bring on an army of Hannibal Lectors, but the first show had shown some stuff just as gross. And her hand was bleeding. Who knows, maybe blood was a nice barbeque sauce substitute. What the fuck was she thinking anyway? Nobody was eating anybody else.
The boy, Harry by name, staggered a bit but managed to recover, looking neither aggressive nor defensive—just tired. Well that made sense. It was day two already, and, as was clear enough by that morning's announcement, not everyone's days had been as boring as her own.
"Well I'm not particularly looking for any issues either. But if someone brings one to me, they might get a surprise." Or, more likely, they would not. She did not overestimate her ability to do anything. She might pierce an ear drum by screeching or something. Still, it never really hurt to tell someone nonchalantly that she would retaliate with force, right?
Lani looked again at her hand. It stung pretty badly. It looked like it wasn't bleeding much anymore, but it looked like a mess with a clumpy line coagulated along the short cut itself. Whatever. It wasn't like she actually needed that hand for anything right now, if what this Harry guy had said about not wanting a fight was true.
"You might wanna sit down or something. You look like your ready to fall over."
Damn!
She dropped the dagger as a sharp pain bit into the palm of her hand. Oh this was wonderful. Even in something she'd been working on for hours she messed up. Figures. It seemed to matter a little less, however, when the source of the noise came into the relative open, hands in the air. "Hey there, Dead-eye." Yeah, like mocking someone was a good idea on this island. It was liable to get you a fight if you wanted one or not.
The guy looked about her age maybe not that age differed much on the island any way. He was taller than her by at least a head, and though he didn't have any weapons showing, Lani was not about to count out the possibility that he could beat the shit out of her. On the other hand, he brought up the weather of all things, and with the oddest expression she'd seen in a while. It made him look a little less than sane.
"I might. You're not some lunatic, are you, playing the part of an erudite gentleman before slicing out a few organs to make a delicious, cannibalistic meal out of?"
She hardly expected the kind of thinking (or lack thereof) brought on by the situation here to actually bring on an army of Hannibal Lectors, but the first show had shown some stuff just as gross. And her hand was bleeding. Who knows, maybe blood was a nice barbeque sauce substitute. What the fuck was she thinking anyway? Nobody was eating anybody else.
The boy, Harry by name, staggered a bit but managed to recover, looking neither aggressive nor defensive—just tired. Well that made sense. It was day two already, and, as was clear enough by that morning's announcement, not everyone's days had been as boring as her own.
"Well I'm not particularly looking for any issues either. But if someone brings one to me, they might get a surprise." Or, more likely, they would not. She did not overestimate her ability to do anything. She might pierce an ear drum by screeching or something. Still, it never really hurt to tell someone nonchalantly that she would retaliate with force, right?
Lani looked again at her hand. It stung pretty badly. It looked like it wasn't bleeding much anymore, but it looked like a mess with a clumpy line coagulated along the short cut itself. Whatever. It wasn't like she actually needed that hand for anything right now, if what this Harry guy had said about not wanting a fight was true.
"You might wanna sit down or something. You look like your ready to fall over."
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- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
Harry smiled in relief, she wasn't going to try to stab him. Honestly, he wasn't sure if he could fight in this condition, period. He also had no intention of testing out this hypothesis. However, it was completely likely that she was just as psychopathic as the next man on the island. In other words, he didn't really have much assurance that she wasn't a crazy. At this point in time, death wasn't a major issue.
"While I don't know what 'erudite' means, I don't plan on eating you or your organs at this point in time," Harry yawned. When had he last slept anyway? 24 hours ago? 36?
"As for falling over, I think I will"
Clumsily, Harry pulled up a piece of ground and sat himself against an old oak tree. It was like stepping into a pool of relief. But, all of the sudden he was vastly aware of every ache and pain he had aquired in the last eight hours. Goddamnit Mary, why the hell did we have to fight? His legs were shot from fighting and walking for hours, his hands burned whenever he touched something, the world spun a little whenever he considered getting up again, and he had all the bruises from being dragged about in the river. But it was worth it. His legs started to feel a bit better without all of his weight on them and his head fealt clearer than it had in a long time.
He grabbed his duffelbag, and pulled out a water bottle. After taking a swig of the good old H20, he looked at the girl in front of him. The first thing he noticed was that she was wearing pants. The second thing he noticed was that her hand was bleeding.
"Uh, wow, I'm blind. Um, do you want some help binding your hand up... uh... I'm afraid I didn't catch your name...?" Harry was feeling even more like an idiot now. He was too tired for this crap. Here was a girl, who he knew nothing about, who wasn't actively tryng to kill him, and he caused her to accidently hurt herself with her knife. He was just a dick wasn't he. A tired, old, scrawny, dick. Evertthing was his fault.
Trying to get up was an interesting excercise in futiity. It was rather amazing to see how fast he could make the world spin. If she wanted his help she'd have to walk over. Try to do something good, and your body fails on you. Try to do something bad and life showers you with riches. Why the hell did he have to be such a goddamned buddhist?
"While I don't know what 'erudite' means, I don't plan on eating you or your organs at this point in time," Harry yawned. When had he last slept anyway? 24 hours ago? 36?
"As for falling over, I think I will"
Clumsily, Harry pulled up a piece of ground and sat himself against an old oak tree. It was like stepping into a pool of relief. But, all of the sudden he was vastly aware of every ache and pain he had aquired in the last eight hours. Goddamnit Mary, why the hell did we have to fight? His legs were shot from fighting and walking for hours, his hands burned whenever he touched something, the world spun a little whenever he considered getting up again, and he had all the bruises from being dragged about in the river. But it was worth it. His legs started to feel a bit better without all of his weight on them and his head fealt clearer than it had in a long time.
He grabbed his duffelbag, and pulled out a water bottle. After taking a swig of the good old H20, he looked at the girl in front of him. The first thing he noticed was that she was wearing pants. The second thing he noticed was that her hand was bleeding.
"Uh, wow, I'm blind. Um, do you want some help binding your hand up... uh... I'm afraid I didn't catch your name...?" Harry was feeling even more like an idiot now. He was too tired for this crap. Here was a girl, who he knew nothing about, who wasn't actively tryng to kill him, and he caused her to accidently hurt herself with her knife. He was just a dick wasn't he. A tired, old, scrawny, dick. Evertthing was his fault.
Trying to get up was an interesting excercise in futiity. It was rather amazing to see how fast he could make the world spin. If she wanted his help she'd have to walk over. Try to do something good, and your body fails on you. Try to do something bad and life showers you with riches. Why the hell did he have to be such a goddamned buddhist?
Lani allowed a tiny twitch of a smirk loose. It was almost funny, really, that there was a civil conversation being held with her around for what must have been at least a minute. While possibly a little strange, it was the circumstances, the island, which made it entirely ironic.
She remembered a line from some book she'd read a few years ago. It was required reading for her English class; the teacher had taken their vocabulary words from it. "If you don't know what it means, you're clearly not." Although the obvious joke, she'd thought it was humorous.
The boy sat down and she could see the relief in his face. Apparently he really was tired. Did it really matter though? They were all going to die soon anyway. Exhausting oneself was just about the only way to stick it to The Man here. It would be a boring way to die by Danya's means, probably. Hadn't that happened in one of Shakespeare's plays, that chick danced herself to death or something?
Lani noticed that for whatever reason, she was less mad at at whatever. It didn't really shock her anymore, but it's always a little unsettling to know that you're nearly ready to kill one moment, and then relatively calm the next. She wasn't a happy bunny frolicking around the woods picking wildflowers, but she also didn't really want to skin those bunnies alive, either.
Harry said something to her, she hadn't been paying attention for a quick moment, but he was looking at her hand, and, politely enough, told her she'd forgotten about her own name. Oops.
"Just Girl 28, if you ask the guys in charge of this place, but less formally I go by Lani." Well, she might as well fix her palm if this guy was going to say something about it. "This thing? Just a scratch. Our oh so kind patrons gave everyone a kit, right? There's probably something alcoholic in it."
She realized she was being overly talkative. It happened sometimes, mostly when another person was around who didn't seem entirely hostile. It wasn't like she ever had anything useful to say, but she usually opened her mouth and out spewed the verbal version of pea soup anyway. Granted, she probably couldn't turn her head 360 degrees, but once she started babbling, people ignored her more intensely anyway, so it worked out...well, it made sense to her. That's all that matters.
Lani found one of those packaged squares soaked with methanol and ripped it open with her teeth. It might have been a bad idea to open the cut again opening the thing. That would sting a bit.
"Thanks, though. I'm good...done it before. I admit though, last time I just poured a bit of whiskey on the cut. This is all...sterile or something. I don't think I heard your name on the announcement earlier, but have you seen anything to be worried about? I mean, like, anything to say one of the terrifying and fear-inducing villains of the fairytale are headed this way?"
She remembered a line from some book she'd read a few years ago. It was required reading for her English class; the teacher had taken their vocabulary words from it. "If you don't know what it means, you're clearly not." Although the obvious joke, she'd thought it was humorous.
The boy sat down and she could see the relief in his face. Apparently he really was tired. Did it really matter though? They were all going to die soon anyway. Exhausting oneself was just about the only way to stick it to The Man here. It would be a boring way to die by Danya's means, probably. Hadn't that happened in one of Shakespeare's plays, that chick danced herself to death or something?
Lani noticed that for whatever reason, she was less mad at at whatever. It didn't really shock her anymore, but it's always a little unsettling to know that you're nearly ready to kill one moment, and then relatively calm the next. She wasn't a happy bunny frolicking around the woods picking wildflowers, but she also didn't really want to skin those bunnies alive, either.
Harry said something to her, she hadn't been paying attention for a quick moment, but he was looking at her hand, and, politely enough, told her she'd forgotten about her own name. Oops.
"Just Girl 28, if you ask the guys in charge of this place, but less formally I go by Lani." Well, she might as well fix her palm if this guy was going to say something about it. "This thing? Just a scratch. Our oh so kind patrons gave everyone a kit, right? There's probably something alcoholic in it."
She realized she was being overly talkative. It happened sometimes, mostly when another person was around who didn't seem entirely hostile. It wasn't like she ever had anything useful to say, but she usually opened her mouth and out spewed the verbal version of pea soup anyway. Granted, she probably couldn't turn her head 360 degrees, but once she started babbling, people ignored her more intensely anyway, so it worked out...well, it made sense to her. That's all that matters.
Lani found one of those packaged squares soaked with methanol and ripped it open with her teeth. It might have been a bad idea to open the cut again opening the thing. That would sting a bit.
"Thanks, though. I'm good...done it before. I admit though, last time I just poured a bit of whiskey on the cut. This is all...sterile or something. I don't think I heard your name on the announcement earlier, but have you seen anything to be worried about? I mean, like, anything to say one of the terrifying and fear-inducing villains of the fairytale are headed this way?"
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- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
Harry laughed for the first time in a while. He didn't have time to keep count, but the humor made him relax a bit. His laughter was a bit hollow and bitter for his tastes, but it was good to let some of the pent up crap he'd been keeping in check out.It occured to him that the more he just kept to the normal routine, the less the game would affect him, and normally he was talkative, extroverted, and laughing at soething or somebody. Laughter, they said, was a great healer. At this moment in time, Harry had to agree with the wisdom of the masses.
"Alright, damn... I'm sorry about sneaking up on you like that. And yeah, I've seen a few things to be worried about," The humor in Harry's face disappeared and was replaced with an emptiness, a lack of expression that suggested that perhaps there was more to that little comment, "I haven't heard anything about our villains; although, I doubt that you'll find any of the fairytale variety. Except maybe one or two, they'll just be normal people hyped up on adrenaline and fear, trying to survive. I think there are a lot of kids on the island, over a hundred, so a couple vicious bastards will probably rear their ugly heads."
Hell, one of them might be me... He thought,
"But, no, my spider-sense isn't tingling. I don't think anyone bad's in this area, right now anyway."
Except me... Harry kept that thought to himself; he didn't really want to scare anyone right now, particularly himself. Part of him wanted to break down and cry his brains out, but he couldn't. Something in him had already decided that the penance, and the damage, was done. It was time to let sleeping dogs lie. Sleep would be a great idea, except he was on an island full of people he didn't know and probably couldn't trust. Harry was a sound sleeper and a prolific snorer. He could sleep through fireworks and drown them out, at the same time. He was a target as soon as he collapsed.
"So, how about you? How much of the island have you seen?"
"Alright, damn... I'm sorry about sneaking up on you like that. And yeah, I've seen a few things to be worried about," The humor in Harry's face disappeared and was replaced with an emptiness, a lack of expression that suggested that perhaps there was more to that little comment, "I haven't heard anything about our villains; although, I doubt that you'll find any of the fairytale variety. Except maybe one or two, they'll just be normal people hyped up on adrenaline and fear, trying to survive. I think there are a lot of kids on the island, over a hundred, so a couple vicious bastards will probably rear their ugly heads."
Hell, one of them might be me... He thought,
"But, no, my spider-sense isn't tingling. I don't think anyone bad's in this area, right now anyway."
Except me... Harry kept that thought to himself; he didn't really want to scare anyone right now, particularly himself. Part of him wanted to break down and cry his brains out, but he couldn't. Something in him had already decided that the penance, and the damage, was done. It was time to let sleeping dogs lie. Sleep would be a great idea, except he was on an island full of people he didn't know and probably couldn't trust. Harry was a sound sleeper and a prolific snorer. He could sleep through fireworks and drown them out, at the same time. He was a target as soon as he collapsed.
"So, how about you? How much of the island have you seen?"
She wasn't sure what it was that she'd said, but it elicited an eerie sounding laugh from this guy. That was odd. See, in general, people just didn't acknowledge her, unless, of course, she were in the way. It made sense when she thought about it that the island would change people, but those who had a tendency to ignore her existence weren't restricted to those who knew her. It seemed to be everyone. It didn't really bother her, but she found it odd that, especially under these circumstances, any person would willingly be speaking to (no, with) her for any length of time and find humor in it. Just a thought.
Harry apologized for sneaking up on her, which she thought he hadn't...unless he was that bad at being quiet. Any trace of humor left his expression, and seemed to drain out of the air itself as he mentioned that, yes, he had seen worrisome things. Lani wondered about that. Was any of it that nearby? That foul? That inhumane, or even inhuman? Something about the way he'd said it, or his expression, or something—she couldn't place what—told her that something wasn't quite right.
Was he trying to get her to trust him, just long enough to...to whatever? She realized again that she hadn't seen a weapon from him, nor had he mentioned any. That, however, didn't mean he didn't have something easily accessible and quite lethal. For all she knew, he might be keeping an S&W in his pocket. On the other hand, he might not need a weapon. What seemed like a hundred ways to kill someone passed through her mind in under a second. Strangulation would suck; there wasn't enough water around to drown someone, she wouldn't mind being shot, that was fast enough death, except the stomach; getting stabbed or cut could go either way too...
She was sure something passed over her face, be it fear or suspicion, or resignation, or d, all of the above. Regardless, her normal, bored expression regained control as the boy's report continued.
"Well damn, here I was hoping for black capes and pointy hats, maybe even a magic wand." Best, probably, to keep those thoughts hidden. Open suspicion would probably lead to an expedition of the plans to dispose of her, if they even existed. And as much as she liked to think she improved with her aim at that tree, it was still a stationary target without reflex. Humans, supposedly exhausted or otherwise, were a different story all together.
The mention of spider-senses, although probably innocuous, caught her attention. There may not be any fairy tale villains, which meant no fairy tale heroes in shining armor and white war stallions, but were comic-book heroes fair play? Did he think he was a hero, or was he a modern villain: calculating in his ways and not just a figure of blundering evil? Could it have been careful calculation to subliminally suggest he was one of the "good guys" here, when in reality, he was the opposite? Or was she just really looking way too far into it? Lani knew she probably was, but the doubt wouldn't leave. Without even meaning to, she was falling into the game. Suspect everyone, work for your survival, and to hell with all the others! Well, if he was going to kill her, he might as well get on with it. If he was some sick bastard who might want to, who knows, like, rip off limbs one at a time, well, she'd do something about that, she guessed.
Thinking about it, a long pause after a question might not look good, so Lani answered his latest question. "I've seen everything within about a 10 meter radius, perhaps farther where the trees are thinner. I haven't left the area, and I don't really plan to, unless I have a very good reason to do so."
She held herself back from giving an example of "a very good reason" such as a supposedly weaponless psycho attacking her in a most unpleasant manner. That would be a bad idea. There really wasn't much else to say, which annoyed her. She had been quite chatty a moment ago, and now she wasn't. Maybe that would go unnoticed, or a perfectly rational reason would explain that for her. A more than common sense of loss of control made its presence known. She didn't know what to do or what to say or even if there was anything she could do to...frankly she didn't know what end she was trying to achieve. Confusion sucks. So she sat there as she had been, holding an alcohol swab in one hand, the other hand cut up, and a knife in an awkward place to reach beside her, and just didn't say anything else at all.
Harry apologized for sneaking up on her, which she thought he hadn't...unless he was that bad at being quiet. Any trace of humor left his expression, and seemed to drain out of the air itself as he mentioned that, yes, he had seen worrisome things. Lani wondered about that. Was any of it that nearby? That foul? That inhumane, or even inhuman? Something about the way he'd said it, or his expression, or something—she couldn't place what—told her that something wasn't quite right.
Was he trying to get her to trust him, just long enough to...to whatever? She realized again that she hadn't seen a weapon from him, nor had he mentioned any. That, however, didn't mean he didn't have something easily accessible and quite lethal. For all she knew, he might be keeping an S&W in his pocket. On the other hand, he might not need a weapon. What seemed like a hundred ways to kill someone passed through her mind in under a second. Strangulation would suck; there wasn't enough water around to drown someone, she wouldn't mind being shot, that was fast enough death, except the stomach; getting stabbed or cut could go either way too...
She was sure something passed over her face, be it fear or suspicion, or resignation, or d, all of the above. Regardless, her normal, bored expression regained control as the boy's report continued.
"Well damn, here I was hoping for black capes and pointy hats, maybe even a magic wand." Best, probably, to keep those thoughts hidden. Open suspicion would probably lead to an expedition of the plans to dispose of her, if they even existed. And as much as she liked to think she improved with her aim at that tree, it was still a stationary target without reflex. Humans, supposedly exhausted or otherwise, were a different story all together.
The mention of spider-senses, although probably innocuous, caught her attention. There may not be any fairy tale villains, which meant no fairy tale heroes in shining armor and white war stallions, but were comic-book heroes fair play? Did he think he was a hero, or was he a modern villain: calculating in his ways and not just a figure of blundering evil? Could it have been careful calculation to subliminally suggest he was one of the "good guys" here, when in reality, he was the opposite? Or was she just really looking way too far into it? Lani knew she probably was, but the doubt wouldn't leave. Without even meaning to, she was falling into the game. Suspect everyone, work for your survival, and to hell with all the others! Well, if he was going to kill her, he might as well get on with it. If he was some sick bastard who might want to, who knows, like, rip off limbs one at a time, well, she'd do something about that, she guessed.
Thinking about it, a long pause after a question might not look good, so Lani answered his latest question. "I've seen everything within about a 10 meter radius, perhaps farther where the trees are thinner. I haven't left the area, and I don't really plan to, unless I have a very good reason to do so."
She held herself back from giving an example of "a very good reason" such as a supposedly weaponless psycho attacking her in a most unpleasant manner. That would be a bad idea. There really wasn't much else to say, which annoyed her. She had been quite chatty a moment ago, and now she wasn't. Maybe that would go unnoticed, or a perfectly rational reason would explain that for her. A more than common sense of loss of control made its presence known. She didn't know what to do or what to say or even if there was anything she could do to...frankly she didn't know what end she was trying to achieve. Confusion sucks. So she sat there as she had been, holding an alcohol swab in one hand, the other hand cut up, and a knife in an awkward place to reach beside her, and just didn't say anything else at all.
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- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
The way her face got when she was confused was kind of cute, Harry supposed. Her eyes darted around and around. She kept glancing towords her knife and him, which made him think for a second that she might want to murder him. However, it was way more likely that she was scared by something he said or did. There was no way to prove he wasn't a threat, to calm her. The best option was to just ignore the rather blatant signs that she was afraid. He was sort of smiling tiredly while all of this passed through his brain with a couple dozen other ideas, particularly that he was hungry.
He rumaged around the pack, careful to keep the contents secret; he didn't want her to know that he had weapons. She would be more suspicious at first, but it was probably wouldn't last when pulled out some food. He finally found a bagged loaf of what he lovingly called "shitbread". It tasted like you were eating soft, yet stale, turds. When it was washed down with the water your mouth felt like a public restroom. He pulled it out, and sat it next to him, in full view, while he zipped the bag up.
"Mmm... Nothing quite like shitbread, followed up by a healthy dose of pisswater. You tried any of the rations they packed you? They taste like a gas station toilet!" Harry grinned, relaxing every moment he contimued eating. Having food inside him always made him happy. Harry imagined his prospects rising with his happines, so everything was great for him right now.
"So, what's your story? I'm curious, and it seems as good a thing to talk about about as any. I'm a suburban white kid of the nerdy variety, adopted youngish into a new family, and till now lived pretty much happily ever after. Now... I'm kind of depressed actually. So anyway, where do you got to school? Where are you from? Like I said, I'm curious." Harry was hoping that remembering her life before this goddamn hellhole would give her something to use as ammunition against the game. Of course, this plan could easily backfire if things weren't so great at her house and she had a shitty life before all of this. In many ways, that would be the worst thing, in Harry's mind. Having a crappy existence and then getting thrown into the septic tank of doom called Survival of the Fittest.
The whole situation was fucked up beyond belief. Lani was just starting to get sucked into it. Over all, he liked the girl. It would be shame if she killed someone. Lani was a girl would would probably crack under pressure, and that was what the terrorists wanted. As bad a person as Harry thought he was, he was handling the situation fairly well. He hadn't cracked and just started shooting people randomly while laughing maniacally, he hadn't committed suicide, he hadn't just done nothing and moped around. He just tried to help people, at least in his mind. It wasn't his fault it fell apart in his hands, despite the fact that he didn't believe any of this. Harry was the kind of kid who blamed himself for the hole in the ozone layer.
He rumaged around the pack, careful to keep the contents secret; he didn't want her to know that he had weapons. She would be more suspicious at first, but it was probably wouldn't last when pulled out some food. He finally found a bagged loaf of what he lovingly called "shitbread". It tasted like you were eating soft, yet stale, turds. When it was washed down with the water your mouth felt like a public restroom. He pulled it out, and sat it next to him, in full view, while he zipped the bag up.
"Mmm... Nothing quite like shitbread, followed up by a healthy dose of pisswater. You tried any of the rations they packed you? They taste like a gas station toilet!" Harry grinned, relaxing every moment he contimued eating. Having food inside him always made him happy. Harry imagined his prospects rising with his happines, so everything was great for him right now.
"So, what's your story? I'm curious, and it seems as good a thing to talk about about as any. I'm a suburban white kid of the nerdy variety, adopted youngish into a new family, and till now lived pretty much happily ever after. Now... I'm kind of depressed actually. So anyway, where do you got to school? Where are you from? Like I said, I'm curious." Harry was hoping that remembering her life before this goddamn hellhole would give her something to use as ammunition against the game. Of course, this plan could easily backfire if things weren't so great at her house and she had a shitty life before all of this. In many ways, that would be the worst thing, in Harry's mind. Having a crappy existence and then getting thrown into the septic tank of doom called Survival of the Fittest.
The whole situation was fucked up beyond belief. Lani was just starting to get sucked into it. Over all, he liked the girl. It would be shame if she killed someone. Lani was a girl would would probably crack under pressure, and that was what the terrorists wanted. As bad a person as Harry thought he was, he was handling the situation fairly well. He hadn't cracked and just started shooting people randomly while laughing maniacally, he hadn't committed suicide, he hadn't just done nothing and moped around. He just tried to help people, at least in his mind. It wasn't his fault it fell apart in his hands, despite the fact that he didn't believe any of this. Harry was the kind of kid who blamed himself for the hole in the ozone layer.
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- Posts: 92
- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2018 3:54 am
((OOC: I'm sorry about the Double Post, but it's been over a week, and Harry has to leave now.))
The Announcement blared accross the speakers, and he heard the deaths for the last twelve hours. Something in him died inside when he heard his name mentioned. Tears came unbidden to his eyes as he relived the hellish scene when Mary-Anne died. If you
survive in this game long, you're going to be a murderer.
"FUCK!" Harry yelled. He grabbed his pack and began to run. "LANI, RUN!" Adrenaline coursed through his body, as he forced himself to get to the edge of the danger zone. Trees began to blur for him, he was running faster than he ever had before. Things started clicking in him, disscoiated thoughts began to link together. The way they control us is through the collars, and through the fear they bring. To conquer this game, one must conquer fear itself. Does that include fear of killing? Fear of causing pain? Fear of breaking love? But does it also mean that you muct conquer the Fear of death, of the great beyond.
Not for the last time did Harry wonder why this whole cluster-fuck was happening.
<<Continued elsewhere>>
The Announcement blared accross the speakers, and he heard the deaths for the last twelve hours. Something in him died inside when he heard his name mentioned. Tears came unbidden to his eyes as he relived the hellish scene when Mary-Anne died. If you
survive in this game long, you're going to be a murderer.
"FUCK!" Harry yelled. He grabbed his pack and began to run. "LANI, RUN!" Adrenaline coursed through his body, as he forced himself to get to the edge of the danger zone. Trees began to blur for him, he was running faster than he ever had before. Things started clicking in him, disscoiated thoughts began to link together. The way they control us is through the collars, and through the fear they bring. To conquer this game, one must conquer fear itself. Does that include fear of killing? Fear of causing pain? Fear of breaking love? But does it also mean that you muct conquer the Fear of death, of the great beyond.
Not for the last time did Harry wonder why this whole cluster-fuck was happening.
<<Continued elsewhere>>
ATTENTION: THIS AREA IS NOW A DANGERZONE. YOU WILL BE GIVEN A 24 HOUR BUFFER TO REMOVE ANY REMAINING CHARACTERS IN THE AREA. CHARACTERS THAT ARE STILL IN THE AREA AFTER THIS TIME LIMIT HAS EXPIRED WILL HAVE THEIR COLLARS DETONATED, NO EXCEPTIONS. PLEASE UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS PART OF THE RULES OF THIS GAME. THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION AND UNDERSTANDING.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Lyndi avatar by Kermit.
The announcement again; it must be day three. Danya rambled off about danger zones, that they were morons, and then moved on to names. It didn't concern her, not really. They were all dead anyway. The walking dead. One name, though, did catch her ear: Harry Constantine. Was this the same Harry who sat near her now? He was crying. What the hell? Things just weren't really adding up in her head, perhaps she should have eaten more, or slept more, or something. It didn't really matter.
That's what was wrong. She was getting depressed again, and, well, nothing really mattered just then. It didn't matter that this guy here had probably killed someone. It didn't matter that it could have been some other Harry. It didn't matter that he looked so upset. No, that did matter a little bit; Lani hated seeing other people upset; but, that didn't mean it mattered enough for her to do something about it.
The disembodied voice rambled on. It might have helped to listen, maybe. Oh well.
"FUCK! Lani, run!" Well, that caught her attention. Why, though, should she be running? He was running, so he wasn't telling her to run from him. Oh, yeah, those danger zones. Guess here was one of them. She wondered what that kind of death was like, quick no doubt, possibly painful.
She decided to stay. What was Hell, anyway? It surely wasn't any worse that how she felt at the moment. Even if it were, no use in pretending she didn't deserve it. And what if Hell were only a myth to scare children (and any number of adults as well) into submission? Well, in that case, what was she waiting for? No need to answer that question.
Harry was long gone now; she couldn't see him any longer, even when she tried. The forest around her was eerily quiet, too. And then a piercingly loud beep. It wasn't really so loud, but in the silence in seemed so. It came from the collar. Yep, this was a danger zone. Hey, she'd actually guessed right, she wasn't completely useless after all. She could even guess things that had been said quite clearly moments before!
Another beep. Another. Were these annoying things sounding closer together? BEEP. Yes, they were.
Not much of a loss (BEEP) really. Sure it would have been nice to see him, but complete and utter rejection (BEEP) wasn't very enjoyable. At least not (BEEP) in theory. Was this going to (BEEP) hurt much? (BEEP) would it be quick? (BEEP BEEP) Would it (BEEP) be (BEEP) painful? (BEEP) Would it be (BEEP BEEP BEEP )instantaneo-
GIRL 28 Okalani Shimane - Deceased
That's what was wrong. She was getting depressed again, and, well, nothing really mattered just then. It didn't matter that this guy here had probably killed someone. It didn't matter that it could have been some other Harry. It didn't matter that he looked so upset. No, that did matter a little bit; Lani hated seeing other people upset; but, that didn't mean it mattered enough for her to do something about it.
The disembodied voice rambled on. It might have helped to listen, maybe. Oh well.
"FUCK! Lani, run!" Well, that caught her attention. Why, though, should she be running? He was running, so he wasn't telling her to run from him. Oh, yeah, those danger zones. Guess here was one of them. She wondered what that kind of death was like, quick no doubt, possibly painful.
She decided to stay. What was Hell, anyway? It surely wasn't any worse that how she felt at the moment. Even if it were, no use in pretending she didn't deserve it. And what if Hell were only a myth to scare children (and any number of adults as well) into submission? Well, in that case, what was she waiting for? No need to answer that question.
Harry was long gone now; she couldn't see him any longer, even when she tried. The forest around her was eerily quiet, too. And then a piercingly loud beep. It wasn't really so loud, but in the silence in seemed so. It came from the collar. Yep, this was a danger zone. Hey, she'd actually guessed right, she wasn't completely useless after all. She could even guess things that had been said quite clearly moments before!
Another beep. Another. Were these annoying things sounding closer together? BEEP. Yes, they were.
Not much of a loss (BEEP) really. Sure it would have been nice to see him, but complete and utter rejection (BEEP) wasn't very enjoyable. At least not (BEEP) in theory. Was this going to (BEEP) hurt much? (BEEP) would it be quick? (BEEP BEEP) Would it (BEEP) be (BEEP) painful? (BEEP) Would it be (BEEP BEEP BEEP )instantaneo-
GIRL 28 Okalani Shimane - Deceased