Good Morning, You Bastards
Good Morning, You Bastards
((G041-AMY BACHELOR-START))
Amy woke up but kept her eyes closed. She knew without a doubt, for better or worse, that everything she'd seen prior to this point had actually happened. Everything from getting on the bus back in Seattle to waking up right now was reality. Sitting next to Mike on the plane, screwing her eyes shut as the plane took off? Real. Waking up in the middle of a darkened hall, hands bound to her chair? Real. Watching Mr Davidge getting killed in front of her, and hearing her own voice screaming? Real. Hearing a man call himself Danya and announce that the Survival of the Fittest program was running again? Impossible, unthinkable, but horribly real.
Amy took several deep, shuddering breaths, but kept her eyes shut. She felt tears welling in the corners of her eyes, but they remained closed. In her mind, Amy had two reasons for this. She knew where she was. Well, not the exact location, but still. She was on an island, the island that was the backdrop for the fifth version of this sick, twisted game. She'd have to face it soon. She'd have to cart her backpack around and endure whatever happened in the upcoming days. Whatever it was. Whatever happened.
And that was the second reason Amy kept her eyes closed for now. People would be watching her. Wherever she went, there would be people, not just her friends, enemies and other classmates. The whole world would be watching this, for various reasons. Out of concern for their children and friends, out of bile fascination or out of some vile pleasure, whatever. Amy would be watched and judged every single second, and she wanted, almost needed to appear strong. She needed to look like the Amy of Seattle, head held high and ready for the oncoming storm. No matter how scared she was, and good God was she scared inside, Amy didn't want to look weak. It terrified her, the prospect of only having a few days to live, but for those few days, Amy would live like Amy, to the best she could.
Amy kept her eyes closed for a minute or so longer, still trying to regain her composure. Finally, slowly, Amy's eye's flickered open. Her first sight on the island was a tangle of leaves and thin branches, rustling slightly in the light breeze. The most important thing about them was how disconcertingly close they appeared. Already, Amy's heart was hammering in her chest. She felt hard wood on her back. Slowly, a million thoughts running through her head as to where she was, Amy sat up, and glanced to her left.
There were more branches and more leaves to her left, outside what seemed like a sort of empty window. The walls of whatever building Amy had woken up in were made of wooden planks, dotted in moss. Just as slowly as she'd sat up, Amy stood up, and walked tentatively to the window. It was almost completely obscured by branches and leaves, but Amy could see that she was not on the ground. She wasn't even on the first or second floor of a building. The ground was far, far below her, and Amy was up in the air.
Instantly a scream left Amy's mouth, and she took several steps backwards. Her right foot bumped into something, and Amy s head instantly turned to the right, just in time to see her bag, already on the edge of one of the zip line towers, get pushed off the edge by her foot, and begin the tumbling descent to the ground.
Amy didn't watch her bag fall. Instead, all previous thoughts banished, she backed into the relative safety of the corner of the tower, and slid down until she was seated. The wood floor and walls felt safe, but Amy felt anything but. She wasn't crying, not yet, but she felt completely paralyzed up in the treetops.
"Hello?" Amy yelled, a panicked tone to her voice. "Is anyone out there? Anybody?!"
Amy woke up but kept her eyes closed. She knew without a doubt, for better or worse, that everything she'd seen prior to this point had actually happened. Everything from getting on the bus back in Seattle to waking up right now was reality. Sitting next to Mike on the plane, screwing her eyes shut as the plane took off? Real. Waking up in the middle of a darkened hall, hands bound to her chair? Real. Watching Mr Davidge getting killed in front of her, and hearing her own voice screaming? Real. Hearing a man call himself Danya and announce that the Survival of the Fittest program was running again? Impossible, unthinkable, but horribly real.
Amy took several deep, shuddering breaths, but kept her eyes shut. She felt tears welling in the corners of her eyes, but they remained closed. In her mind, Amy had two reasons for this. She knew where she was. Well, not the exact location, but still. She was on an island, the island that was the backdrop for the fifth version of this sick, twisted game. She'd have to face it soon. She'd have to cart her backpack around and endure whatever happened in the upcoming days. Whatever it was. Whatever happened.
And that was the second reason Amy kept her eyes closed for now. People would be watching her. Wherever she went, there would be people, not just her friends, enemies and other classmates. The whole world would be watching this, for various reasons. Out of concern for their children and friends, out of bile fascination or out of some vile pleasure, whatever. Amy would be watched and judged every single second, and she wanted, almost needed to appear strong. She needed to look like the Amy of Seattle, head held high and ready for the oncoming storm. No matter how scared she was, and good God was she scared inside, Amy didn't want to look weak. It terrified her, the prospect of only having a few days to live, but for those few days, Amy would live like Amy, to the best she could.
Amy kept her eyes closed for a minute or so longer, still trying to regain her composure. Finally, slowly, Amy's eye's flickered open. Her first sight on the island was a tangle of leaves and thin branches, rustling slightly in the light breeze. The most important thing about them was how disconcertingly close they appeared. Already, Amy's heart was hammering in her chest. She felt hard wood on her back. Slowly, a million thoughts running through her head as to where she was, Amy sat up, and glanced to her left.
There were more branches and more leaves to her left, outside what seemed like a sort of empty window. The walls of whatever building Amy had woken up in were made of wooden planks, dotted in moss. Just as slowly as she'd sat up, Amy stood up, and walked tentatively to the window. It was almost completely obscured by branches and leaves, but Amy could see that she was not on the ground. She wasn't even on the first or second floor of a building. The ground was far, far below her, and Amy was up in the air.
Instantly a scream left Amy's mouth, and she took several steps backwards. Her right foot bumped into something, and Amy s head instantly turned to the right, just in time to see her bag, already on the edge of one of the zip line towers, get pushed off the edge by her foot, and begin the tumbling descent to the ground.
Amy didn't watch her bag fall. Instead, all previous thoughts banished, she backed into the relative safety of the corner of the tower, and slid down until she was seated. The wood floor and walls felt safe, but Amy felt anything but. She wasn't crying, not yet, but she felt completely paralyzed up in the treetops.
"Hello?" Amy yelled, a panicked tone to her voice. "Is anyone out there? Anybody?!"
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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((Venice Pennington-Johannes: G016 -V5- Start))
Venice was cracking her knuckles, something she use to find very gross. As of right now though, she was desperate to hear anything besides the sounds of her flip flops treading through the grass. After balling her eyes out in the middle of who-fuck knows, she was know trying to find...well, she didn't quite know, but she hoped something friendly.
Maybe a friend or a teacher or a boat to take her home. Anything that didn't have a gun or a gas-mask was preferable. She figured she didn't have much room to talk though, considering the axe in her hand being dragged against the ground. Venice wanted to leave it behind, but she...she just couldn't. She was scared and didn't know what or who was out there, like a bear or a serial killer or whatever these sickos had up their sleeves. She started to choke up again at the thought of something actually trying to kill her. But the tightness of the object around her neck put an end to that.
It was actually very pretty, the collar, at least in her mind. Not that collars or chokes were her thing, but the matte black was very soothing. The texture itself felt soft, and it wasn't even that cold of metal. But everything about the collar reminded her of how haphazard she felt. Venice could feel the distaste of morning breath still lingering.
She stopped for a second and leaned against the wood of a tree. Picking up the axe, she looked at herself in the red shiny gleam. Her hair, as would be best be described by her aunt in the country, was a "ratnest". Her tanned face had become pale from fear and tiredness, and her cheeks had become especially puffy and pink. Venice shut her eyes and leaned her head back on the moss, ready to go back to a noxious slumber.
But a scream widened her eyes letting the bright sun dilate her pupils. Wincing, Venice stood up, almost losing her footing, and hurriedly looked around. She heard a voice again, coming from a hill some feet away with a building at the very top. A worried and wonderful English voice!
"Hold on, I'm-I'm coming!"
Leaving her axe and bag by the tree, Venice marched up all the way to the building, not knowing where exactly the voice was coming from.
"Helllooo!? I'm here now!"
Venice was cracking her knuckles, something she use to find very gross. As of right now though, she was desperate to hear anything besides the sounds of her flip flops treading through the grass. After balling her eyes out in the middle of who-fuck knows, she was know trying to find...well, she didn't quite know, but she hoped something friendly.
Maybe a friend or a teacher or a boat to take her home. Anything that didn't have a gun or a gas-mask was preferable. She figured she didn't have much room to talk though, considering the axe in her hand being dragged against the ground. Venice wanted to leave it behind, but she...she just couldn't. She was scared and didn't know what or who was out there, like a bear or a serial killer or whatever these sickos had up their sleeves. She started to choke up again at the thought of something actually trying to kill her. But the tightness of the object around her neck put an end to that.
It was actually very pretty, the collar, at least in her mind. Not that collars or chokes were her thing, but the matte black was very soothing. The texture itself felt soft, and it wasn't even that cold of metal. But everything about the collar reminded her of how haphazard she felt. Venice could feel the distaste of morning breath still lingering.
She stopped for a second and leaned against the wood of a tree. Picking up the axe, she looked at herself in the red shiny gleam. Her hair, as would be best be described by her aunt in the country, was a "ratnest". Her tanned face had become pale from fear and tiredness, and her cheeks had become especially puffy and pink. Venice shut her eyes and leaned her head back on the moss, ready to go back to a noxious slumber.
But a scream widened her eyes letting the bright sun dilate her pupils. Wincing, Venice stood up, almost losing her footing, and hurriedly looked around. She heard a voice again, coming from a hill some feet away with a building at the very top. A worried and wonderful English voice!
"Hold on, I'm-I'm coming!"
Leaving her axe and bag by the tree, Venice marched up all the way to the building, not knowing where exactly the voice was coming from.
"Helllooo!? I'm here now!"
Amy had, in all honesty, not been expecting to hear a voice of any sort in the near future. Possibly not at all. She didn't know how large the island was, and with her bag what might as well have been miles below her, she wouldn't know for a while. Amy just hoped that the terrorists hadn't decided to place everybody miles apart from each other, or that the tangle of foliage surrounding her building didn't drown out her cries for help.
Mere moments after yelling, however, Amy heard another voice, fairly distant, but still audible. There was always the chance the voice had not, in fact, heard her. There was a chance they themselves were looking for help, or were responding to some other person. Hell, Amy wasn't even certain who the person was, not that that particularly mattered right now. But she would definitely prefer it if someone like Claire had found her. Or Michelle, or Yaz, or-
"Venice?!"
Amy didn't dare shuffle even an inch from her secure position in the corner of the tower, not even to check out of the gaping hole her bag had fallen out of to see whether it was, in fact, Venice Pennington-Johannes. But she was almost certain it had been Venice's voice that had floated up from the base of the tower. Even though the two girls were on the complete opposite spectrum of athleticism, Venice was friendly with pretty much anybody and everybody.
"Venice!" Amy shouted again. She could have stood up, held on to the frame of the hole for support, but she felt that if she did, her legs would give way instantly. No matter how secure the structure truly was, it would never feel 100% secure to her. "I'm up here, at the top of this... building? Uh, can you see my bag anywhere?"
Amy's fear had lessened slightly since Venice's arrival. Her senses began to focus on things aside from the great height she was located at, one of which was the weird feeling of pressure around her neck. It wasn't particularly great, not enough to start choking her, but it was a constant and ever so slightly irritating. Amy raised her hand to lightly touch her neck and froze where she was. Metal. There was a metal band around her neck. Why the fuck was there a metal band around her neck?
Amy's mind suddenly flashed back to the dimly lit hall, back to the few episodes of SOTF she'd watched years ago, back to everything she'd heard about this program in her life. There would be danger zones all over the island. If she remained in one of them, the collar would explode.
The fear that had been oh-so close to leaving Amy returned in full force, and she had to cover her mouth to prevent herself from crying out in sudden realisation. How long until the Danger Zones were announced? How long had she been asleep? Had she somehow managed to sleep longer than everyone else for some reason?
"Wait, Venice!" Amy yelled, voice at an even higher pitch than before. "The bag can wait! Please, tell me there's some way down from here! Please!"
Mere moments after yelling, however, Amy heard another voice, fairly distant, but still audible. There was always the chance the voice had not, in fact, heard her. There was a chance they themselves were looking for help, or were responding to some other person. Hell, Amy wasn't even certain who the person was, not that that particularly mattered right now. But she would definitely prefer it if someone like Claire had found her. Or Michelle, or Yaz, or-
"Venice?!"
Amy didn't dare shuffle even an inch from her secure position in the corner of the tower, not even to check out of the gaping hole her bag had fallen out of to see whether it was, in fact, Venice Pennington-Johannes. But she was almost certain it had been Venice's voice that had floated up from the base of the tower. Even though the two girls were on the complete opposite spectrum of athleticism, Venice was friendly with pretty much anybody and everybody.
"Venice!" Amy shouted again. She could have stood up, held on to the frame of the hole for support, but she felt that if she did, her legs would give way instantly. No matter how secure the structure truly was, it would never feel 100% secure to her. "I'm up here, at the top of this... building? Uh, can you see my bag anywhere?"
Amy's fear had lessened slightly since Venice's arrival. Her senses began to focus on things aside from the great height she was located at, one of which was the weird feeling of pressure around her neck. It wasn't particularly great, not enough to start choking her, but it was a constant and ever so slightly irritating. Amy raised her hand to lightly touch her neck and froze where she was. Metal. There was a metal band around her neck. Why the fuck was there a metal band around her neck?
Amy's mind suddenly flashed back to the dimly lit hall, back to the few episodes of SOTF she'd watched years ago, back to everything she'd heard about this program in her life. There would be danger zones all over the island. If she remained in one of them, the collar would explode.
The fear that had been oh-so close to leaving Amy returned in full force, and she had to cover her mouth to prevent herself from crying out in sudden realisation. How long until the Danger Zones were announced? How long had she been asleep? Had she somehow managed to sleep longer than everyone else for some reason?
"Wait, Venice!" Amy yelled, voice at an even higher pitch than before. "The bag can wait! Please, tell me there's some way down from here! Please!"
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Somebody! Somebody who was breathing and friendly and actually was glad to hear Venice! Granted, Venice figured, that the voice was probably glad to have anybody nearby, but still.
The voice seemed to be coming opposite front of the building which Venice was by. Walking along the side of the building, she wondered who the voice could possibly be. Not that it really mattered, she was happy just to hear another living person, but she didn't have anything else to think about. The person was obviously a female, noticeable by the increasingly high voice, and with a noticeable English accent. The number of students from the UK could literally be counted by hand digits, and even less were girls. As far as Venice knew, only one English girl was present for the trip.
"Amy?" she thought.
Turning the corner, Venice had stumble onto a bag, now dirty and very similar to the one she had at the beginning of this morning. Picking up the bag to inspect it, the voice yelled again asking for the presumed bag in question, which made Venice drop it. Hoping she didn't hear the unpleasant noise that was hopefully just broken sticks, Venice turned the bag over to it's front side, thinking for some reason that would fix anything that might have broken.
The voice, now obviously coming from the dark hole that was up above a little bit under two stories high, had asked her is there was a way down. Her mind a tad bit fuddled, Venice gave her most honest response.
"Maaaybeeee..." she squeaked.
"Hold on," Venice said "I'll get you down!"
That was probably less truthful.
Venice, figuring the voice wouldn't mind considering she was trying to help, opened the bag she presumed belonged to it. The first thing Venice saw was a cracked open First Aid kit. Opening it desperately, she saw a bunch of things. Gauze bandages, scissors, an emergency blanket...
Emergency blanket. Completely unfolded, these thing could get as long as 7 feet. And if a story was 10 feet...
"I'll be right back!"
Hopping quickly back to her own bag, she grabbed the first aid kit and two long sleeve shirts. Once again right down below the hole where the voice presided, Venice cut her own and the other emergency blanket packages open. Rolling the blankets as fast as she could, she used one of her shirts to tie together the area in between the two blankets and the second one tie at the end of one them. Just to be extra sure, she also wrapped the intertwining parts up in gauze tape, so it didn't come loose too easily. Leaning her torso up against the wall and standing on her tippy toes while stretching her arms out as far as she could, she tried to hit the bottom of the hole with the only loose sleeve on this makeshift...thing-a-majiger. Flapping against the light breeze, the sleeve didn't make contact with the hole, but it was in front of it.
She hoped the voice could see it, because this was her only idea, and Venice wasn't sure if it was a bright one. Bright enough to bring the voice out of the darkness, she hoped.
The voice seemed to be coming opposite front of the building which Venice was by. Walking along the side of the building, she wondered who the voice could possibly be. Not that it really mattered, she was happy just to hear another living person, but she didn't have anything else to think about. The person was obviously a female, noticeable by the increasingly high voice, and with a noticeable English accent. The number of students from the UK could literally be counted by hand digits, and even less were girls. As far as Venice knew, only one English girl was present for the trip.
"Amy?" she thought.
Turning the corner, Venice had stumble onto a bag, now dirty and very similar to the one she had at the beginning of this morning. Picking up the bag to inspect it, the voice yelled again asking for the presumed bag in question, which made Venice drop it. Hoping she didn't hear the unpleasant noise that was hopefully just broken sticks, Venice turned the bag over to it's front side, thinking for some reason that would fix anything that might have broken.
The voice, now obviously coming from the dark hole that was up above a little bit under two stories high, had asked her is there was a way down. Her mind a tad bit fuddled, Venice gave her most honest response.
"Maaaybeeee..." she squeaked.
"Hold on," Venice said "I'll get you down!"
That was probably less truthful.
Venice, figuring the voice wouldn't mind considering she was trying to help, opened the bag she presumed belonged to it. The first thing Venice saw was a cracked open First Aid kit. Opening it desperately, she saw a bunch of things. Gauze bandages, scissors, an emergency blanket...
Emergency blanket. Completely unfolded, these thing could get as long as 7 feet. And if a story was 10 feet...
"I'll be right back!"
Hopping quickly back to her own bag, she grabbed the first aid kit and two long sleeve shirts. Once again right down below the hole where the voice presided, Venice cut her own and the other emergency blanket packages open. Rolling the blankets as fast as she could, she used one of her shirts to tie together the area in between the two blankets and the second one tie at the end of one them. Just to be extra sure, she also wrapped the intertwining parts up in gauze tape, so it didn't come loose too easily. Leaning her torso up against the wall and standing on her tippy toes while stretching her arms out as far as she could, she tried to hit the bottom of the hole with the only loose sleeve on this makeshift...thing-a-majiger. Flapping against the light breeze, the sleeve didn't make contact with the hole, but it was in front of it.
She hoped the voice could see it, because this was her only idea, and Venice wasn't sure if it was a bright one. Bright enough to bring the voice out of the darkness, she hoped.
Maybe. That was Venice's answer. Maybe. That was not what Amy wanted to hear right now. What Amy wanted to hear was Sure, there's a lift behind you', or perhaps something more in the realms of reality. Hell, even a negative response would have been pref-No. No, that wouldn't be anywhere near preferable. But still, the thought that not even Venice knew whether or not Amy would be able to get down was not a pleasant one.
Venice then shouted up that she would get Amy down, somehow. It managed to equally reassure Amy and confirm her fears that there was no easy way down. Venice's words made it sound like she was trying to figure out some way of helping her down. On the other hand, Venice seemed to have a capable head on her shoulders. She was at the very least trying to help Amy, and Amy currently needed every bit of help she could get.
So Amy shouted "Thank you!" back to Venice, and sat tight in her little corner that was the only constant in her world right now. Even the tiniest movement, the tiniest involuntary movement of her foot or arm, sent a jolt through her brain telling her that she was about to fall. She'd managed to deal with her fear on the plane mostly because she'd been sitting next to Mike. Now though, the only help she had was far below her on the ground. Amy needed out of this fast, or else she felt as if she'd go crazy.
Venice's voice floated up again, saying she'd be right back. Where was she going? Was she abandoning her? No, wait, that was dumb. She'd just said she was coming back. Amy weakly called out "Okay..." although he doubted Venice heard it, and started to look around the building for any other ways out. There were two similar openings on opposite sides of the building, with smaller window-like openings on the other walls. Amy guessed the larger openings had ladders or something leading up to them, although the overgrowth of branches made it impossible to tell. No way was she climbing down ladders, though. There was no feeling less secure for Amy than clambering down, or up, a ladder, no matter how high. Ladders could go straight to hell. On the other side of the building, Amy could see what looked like wires that began at the top of the building, and continued on to who-knew-where. Amy wasn't even going to consider that as an option. It was just-
A sheet had just flapped up in the open space Amy was currently staring at. What the hell? Was this part of Venice's idea? Taking a deep breath, then another for good luck, Amy slowly shuffled along the wall until she was next to the edge of the hole. She shut her eyes for a moment, then peered out of it down at the ground. Venice was indeed holding some sort of sheet, one that was easily long enough to reach up to where Amy was. Amy could only look out for a few seconds, but it didn't take a genius to work out Venice's general plan.
"Are you insane?!" Amy yelled down. "No, no, no, that's not... that's..."
Amy took another look round the building. Her options were incredibly limited. She could take the ladder which might not even exist, which Amy had already established was a non-starter. She could use the wires to get to wherever they led. She could also simply jump from the building which would undoubtedly have the same effect. Or she could trust in this plan Venice had. Whatever it was.
"Okay, Venice?" Amy called down after a few seconds. "What do I need to do with the sheet?"
Venice then shouted up that she would get Amy down, somehow. It managed to equally reassure Amy and confirm her fears that there was no easy way down. Venice's words made it sound like she was trying to figure out some way of helping her down. On the other hand, Venice seemed to have a capable head on her shoulders. She was at the very least trying to help Amy, and Amy currently needed every bit of help she could get.
So Amy shouted "Thank you!" back to Venice, and sat tight in her little corner that was the only constant in her world right now. Even the tiniest movement, the tiniest involuntary movement of her foot or arm, sent a jolt through her brain telling her that she was about to fall. She'd managed to deal with her fear on the plane mostly because she'd been sitting next to Mike. Now though, the only help she had was far below her on the ground. Amy needed out of this fast, or else she felt as if she'd go crazy.
Venice's voice floated up again, saying she'd be right back. Where was she going? Was she abandoning her? No, wait, that was dumb. She'd just said she was coming back. Amy weakly called out "Okay..." although he doubted Venice heard it, and started to look around the building for any other ways out. There were two similar openings on opposite sides of the building, with smaller window-like openings on the other walls. Amy guessed the larger openings had ladders or something leading up to them, although the overgrowth of branches made it impossible to tell. No way was she climbing down ladders, though. There was no feeling less secure for Amy than clambering down, or up, a ladder, no matter how high. Ladders could go straight to hell. On the other side of the building, Amy could see what looked like wires that began at the top of the building, and continued on to who-knew-where. Amy wasn't even going to consider that as an option. It was just-
A sheet had just flapped up in the open space Amy was currently staring at. What the hell? Was this part of Venice's idea? Taking a deep breath, then another for good luck, Amy slowly shuffled along the wall until she was next to the edge of the hole. She shut her eyes for a moment, then peered out of it down at the ground. Venice was indeed holding some sort of sheet, one that was easily long enough to reach up to where Amy was. Amy could only look out for a few seconds, but it didn't take a genius to work out Venice's general plan.
"Are you insane?!" Amy yelled down. "No, no, no, that's not... that's..."
Amy took another look round the building. Her options were incredibly limited. She could take the ladder which might not even exist, which Amy had already established was a non-starter. She could use the wires to get to wherever they led. She could also simply jump from the building which would undoubtedly have the same effect. Or she could trust in this plan Venice had. Whatever it was.
"Okay, Venice?" Amy called down after a few seconds. "What do I need to do with the sheet?"
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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When the voice asked if Venice was insane, it actually hurt her feelings a bit. She was just trying to help. However, Venice could see the voice's point, her mind feeling frazzled as it was now. Venice also knew that her attempt MacGyver-ing some sort of rescue tool that was probably more MacGruber-ish anyway.
The voice had finally peaked a little out of the hole, though Venice only saw a little bit. She saw a bit of bright red hair, so she assumed it was indeed Amy.
Amy denied using the thingy-majiger with a couple spouts of the word "no". About to throw the object down, the English girl had changed her mind.
"It's a shirt! If there's a pipe or something, tie the sleeve around it! Use a rope or something to make sure it doesn't slip! Then just shimmy down like in gym class or climbing a mountain!"
Saying this out loud, Venice realized that was probably the most sketchy sounding way down possible. She knew she would be scared to use it, maybe even too scared to even attempt it. There had to be a superior way of getting down....
"If you can find a ladder, use that instead!" She shouted "It's probably a lot safer that way!"
The voice had finally peaked a little out of the hole, though Venice only saw a little bit. She saw a bit of bright red hair, so she assumed it was indeed Amy.
Amy denied using the thingy-majiger with a couple spouts of the word "no". About to throw the object down, the English girl had changed her mind.
"It's a shirt! If there's a pipe or something, tie the sleeve around it! Use a rope or something to make sure it doesn't slip! Then just shimmy down like in gym class or climbing a mountain!"
Saying this out loud, Venice realized that was probably the most sketchy sounding way down possible. She knew she would be scared to use it, maybe even too scared to even attempt it. There had to be a superior way of getting down....
"If you can find a ladder, use that instead!" She shouted "It's probably a lot safer that way!"
Again, Venice's words had the off effect of both reassuring Amy and at the same time making the stark realisation of her situation even more obvious. Her tone of voice was reassuring and confident, and it was almost enough to get Amy's head back in the game and her mind out of its panicked state. But then there were the actual words Venice said. Did she really expect there to be a rope up here, at all? If Amy hadn't been terrified and relying on Venice utterly, she might have rolled her eyes. Her personal bag was nowhere to be seen, and even if it had been, the only things in there of note were books, spare clothes and her makeup. As for her latter comment, had Venice ever seen Amy in PE? She was as fond of climbing ropes as she was of eating live tarantulas.
Even Venice seemed to realise that there were definite problems with her plan. She was now suggesting Amy take the ladder, if there was one. Even though Amy knew the other girl couldn't see her, she shook her head. No, the ladder was not happening. There was no way it was happening. It couldn't be...
The ladder might have been the only way down. Amy realised this with a horrible jolt to her stomach. Slowly, almost painfully slowly, Amy managed to stand up, her back against the wall for support. As soon as she was upright, she almost fell back down again, her legs felt so unsecure. Her feet barely left the ground as she shuffled towards the other hole. There, at the top, she could see the first rung of what was indeed a ladder. It ran straight down the side of the building, almost vertical. Amy's breathing froze, and she took several hurried shuffles backwards. The ladder was definitely not an option. It went pretty much straight down, and there was only a minute amount of space to hold onto. The sheet was still terrifying, but at least there was a lot more area to grab hold of.
"Venice?" Amy shouted down the tower. She hoped Venice hadn't left her or anything, seeing how long Amy had taken. "I'm... Goddamnit, I'm taking the sheet down!" Amy slowly shuffled to the other side of the tower. There were no pipes in sight, of course, but the holes had some sort of frame to them, and there was the tiniest gap between them and the walls of the tower. Just enough to let a sliver of light through, and enough to let a sheet through.
Amy gently threaded the sheet through the thin sliver between post and wall, sticking as tightly to the wall as possible. Once enough of the sheet was through, she pulled it round, and tied a knot as tightly as possible in the fabric. That part was done, but it needed to be more secure. Amy wasn't going to touch it until it was doubly fastened, but there was nothing in the tower that could be used for that. Amy sighed, closed her eyes, and lowered her head, about to mutter something to Venice. The material round her neck shuffled a little, and Amy reopened her eyes.
"Damn it" Amy muttered, as she unwound her scarf from her neck. She didn't want to lose this. She'd had it since god knows when. She had another, crappier scarf in her bag, but where was that exactly? But she wanted to get down from the tower as soon as possible. Amy wound the scarf around the sheet as securely as possible. There. If anything happened to it, then God legitimately hated her, and was a massive asshole to boot.
"O-okay! Coming down!" Amy tried to inject a note of confidence into her voice, but it felt as though she just sounded even more nervous. One hand on the sheet. Other hand on the sheet. Legs wrapped round the sheet. The descent started now. Amy's eyes were screwed tightly shut as she slowly, painfully, made her way down the rope. Every inch took what felt like a minute. She wasn't even sure how she getting down. Her legs and hands seemed to have a life of their own. The wind, light as it was, was ruffling her hair, and more importantly, gently moving the sheet a little. She had to focus on just getting down when every second her mind was telling her to just stop, to scream out in terror. And why didn't she listen to it? There was no way she'd be able to get all the way to the bottom without falling. She had no idea how high she was, and what if it hadn't been Venice at the bottom but somebody else with a weapon and a plan and a-
Amy's feet touched solid ground. Her eyes instantly opened. All she could see was the white of the sheet which she'd buried her face in. Slowly, uncertainly, she let go. She took a few steps backwards. There was dirt and grass beneath her feet. She spun round, to see Venice standing a couple of feet away.
"Oh my God..." Amy breathed. Then, she ran over to Venice and threw her arms around the other girl. "Oh my God, Venice! Thank you! I didn't... I couldn't... thank you!"
Even Venice seemed to realise that there were definite problems with her plan. She was now suggesting Amy take the ladder, if there was one. Even though Amy knew the other girl couldn't see her, she shook her head. No, the ladder was not happening. There was no way it was happening. It couldn't be...
The ladder might have been the only way down. Amy realised this with a horrible jolt to her stomach. Slowly, almost painfully slowly, Amy managed to stand up, her back against the wall for support. As soon as she was upright, she almost fell back down again, her legs felt so unsecure. Her feet barely left the ground as she shuffled towards the other hole. There, at the top, she could see the first rung of what was indeed a ladder. It ran straight down the side of the building, almost vertical. Amy's breathing froze, and she took several hurried shuffles backwards. The ladder was definitely not an option. It went pretty much straight down, and there was only a minute amount of space to hold onto. The sheet was still terrifying, but at least there was a lot more area to grab hold of.
"Venice?" Amy shouted down the tower. She hoped Venice hadn't left her or anything, seeing how long Amy had taken. "I'm... Goddamnit, I'm taking the sheet down!" Amy slowly shuffled to the other side of the tower. There were no pipes in sight, of course, but the holes had some sort of frame to them, and there was the tiniest gap between them and the walls of the tower. Just enough to let a sliver of light through, and enough to let a sheet through.
Amy gently threaded the sheet through the thin sliver between post and wall, sticking as tightly to the wall as possible. Once enough of the sheet was through, she pulled it round, and tied a knot as tightly as possible in the fabric. That part was done, but it needed to be more secure. Amy wasn't going to touch it until it was doubly fastened, but there was nothing in the tower that could be used for that. Amy sighed, closed her eyes, and lowered her head, about to mutter something to Venice. The material round her neck shuffled a little, and Amy reopened her eyes.
"Damn it" Amy muttered, as she unwound her scarf from her neck. She didn't want to lose this. She'd had it since god knows when. She had another, crappier scarf in her bag, but where was that exactly? But she wanted to get down from the tower as soon as possible. Amy wound the scarf around the sheet as securely as possible. There. If anything happened to it, then God legitimately hated her, and was a massive asshole to boot.
"O-okay! Coming down!" Amy tried to inject a note of confidence into her voice, but it felt as though she just sounded even more nervous. One hand on the sheet. Other hand on the sheet. Legs wrapped round the sheet. The descent started now. Amy's eyes were screwed tightly shut as she slowly, painfully, made her way down the rope. Every inch took what felt like a minute. She wasn't even sure how she getting down. Her legs and hands seemed to have a life of their own. The wind, light as it was, was ruffling her hair, and more importantly, gently moving the sheet a little. She had to focus on just getting down when every second her mind was telling her to just stop, to scream out in terror. And why didn't she listen to it? There was no way she'd be able to get all the way to the bottom without falling. She had no idea how high she was, and what if it hadn't been Venice at the bottom but somebody else with a weapon and a plan and a-
Amy's feet touched solid ground. Her eyes instantly opened. All she could see was the white of the sheet which she'd buried her face in. Slowly, uncertainly, she let go. She took a few steps backwards. There was dirt and grass beneath her feet. She spun round, to see Venice standing a couple of feet away.
"Oh my God..." Amy breathed. Then, she ran over to Venice and threw her arms around the other girl. "Oh my God, Venice! Thank you! I didn't... I couldn't... thank you!"
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Ah, thank goodness, Amy was finally coming down. Venice's toes were starting to hurt anyway.
Still holding the thingy-majiger, Venice could hear Amy shuffling around from inside the hole. She hoped that Amy was okay. The English girl sounded so frustrated about coming down. Venice figured she just might be afraid of heights.
"Just take your time!"
Venice could feeling a tugging around the sleeve. She didn't want to let go of the object until she was sure Amy was fully ready to come down.
When Amy finally yelled that she was going to try it, Venice let her foot heels down, giving them a break. When Amy actually started the descent down the object, Venice let her hands slowly release the tight grip on it as Amy got closer to earth.
"Don't worry, you're doing fine, don't rush yourself."
Once Amy's soles touched Venice's knuckles, she finally let go of the object. When Amy stepped backwards, Venice thought the girl was about to fall over, she reached her arms out to make sure she didn't. Venice must have looked like she was going for a hug, because that's what Amy gave turning around.
Being thanked was good, but being held like this was ten times better. Wrapping her arms around the other girl, Venice began to dig her face into the other girl's shoulder. It was just...so nice, having someone in the same circumstance she was in.
Raising her head again, Venice spoke.
"Are you okay?"
Still holding the thingy-majiger, Venice could hear Amy shuffling around from inside the hole. She hoped that Amy was okay. The English girl sounded so frustrated about coming down. Venice figured she just might be afraid of heights.
"Just take your time!"
Venice could feeling a tugging around the sleeve. She didn't want to let go of the object until she was sure Amy was fully ready to come down.
When Amy finally yelled that she was going to try it, Venice let her foot heels down, giving them a break. When Amy actually started the descent down the object, Venice let her hands slowly release the tight grip on it as Amy got closer to earth.
"Don't worry, you're doing fine, don't rush yourself."
Once Amy's soles touched Venice's knuckles, she finally let go of the object. When Amy stepped backwards, Venice thought the girl was about to fall over, she reached her arms out to make sure she didn't. Venice must have looked like she was going for a hug, because that's what Amy gave turning around.
Being thanked was good, but being held like this was ten times better. Wrapping her arms around the other girl, Venice began to dig her face into the other girl's shoulder. It was just...so nice, having someone in the same circumstance she was in.
Raising her head again, Venice spoke.
"Are you okay?"
The difference between the feelings Amy had at the top of the tower and what she felt hugging Venice could not have been any more different. Up there, she had been isolated, alone and scared. Venice had been there to help her, but they'd been separated, couldn't see each other. It was honestly the most terrifying moment of Amy's life.
Down here, though, Amy felt nothing but relief. Just the feel of another human being made her feel secure in a way the feel of her feet against ground had not. Venice was here, alongside her, and even though the two girls hadn't been the greatest of friends back in Seattle, she was willing to help her. Amy wasn't alone in this; she was sure that determination to get through all of this alive was shared by Venice. All that had just happened was just a blip, hopefully.
"I... I'm fine!" Amy said in response to Venice. "Just, y'know... a little shaky still. But I'm safe! That's what matters, right?"
Amy held tight to Venice for several more seconds before finally letting go. As comforting as it was, they couldn't just spend their whole time standing around hugging. It would have been a lot preferable to what was most likely going to happen, but Amy had to accept that. There'd be more time for hugs later, after everything had been said and done. Amy was sure of it.
"Lost my scarf though" Amy said, gesturing at her neck, a slightly forlorn tone in her voice. "Used it to secure the blanket rope. I mean, I shouldn't really be complaining, and I've got another, but still..."
Down here, though, Amy felt nothing but relief. Just the feel of another human being made her feel secure in a way the feel of her feet against ground had not. Venice was here, alongside her, and even though the two girls hadn't been the greatest of friends back in Seattle, she was willing to help her. Amy wasn't alone in this; she was sure that determination to get through all of this alive was shared by Venice. All that had just happened was just a blip, hopefully.
"I... I'm fine!" Amy said in response to Venice. "Just, y'know... a little shaky still. But I'm safe! That's what matters, right?"
Amy held tight to Venice for several more seconds before finally letting go. As comforting as it was, they couldn't just spend their whole time standing around hugging. It would have been a lot preferable to what was most likely going to happen, but Amy had to accept that. There'd be more time for hugs later, after everything had been said and done. Amy was sure of it.
"Lost my scarf though" Amy said, gesturing at her neck, a slightly forlorn tone in her voice. "Used it to secure the blanket rope. I mean, I shouldn't really be complaining, and I've got another, but still..."
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Yeah, it was good that Amy wasn't up there anymore. It was good that everything was peaceful, even if for just a few moments.
Amy tightened her grip on Venice. Venice pat her back to signal to let go. Amy did not get the hint at first. After several seconds, Venice was beginning a drum beat on the false red-heads back.
"She needs a touch-up."
When Amy had said that she used her scarf to secure the thingy-majiger, she looked at the dark filled hole again.
"Maybe we can get something to get it down. I want my shirt back anyway."
Looking around the next corner, she saw an old rusty ladder, just barely out of the view of the window it was under.
"Oh for the love of- If I had just turned the corner, UGH."
The ladder was fully extended, which she found odd. Figuring it would just be easier to carry it like it was, instead of folding it and then unfolding it again, Venice held the ladder while stumbling back to the hole.
With a little creak between each step, Venice wondered if her shirt was worth it.
"Hm" she thought "I'll just go for the scarf, for Amy."
Her head now barely appearing in front of the hole, Venice saw the scarf wrapped around a different much smaller hole. Unwrapping it easily, Venice held the scarf out to show Amy.
"Hey, I go-
And then the ladder buckled. Scared, Venice tried to force the ladder back to the wall, but she was already making it lean to far forward, her left palm getting clipped between the ladder sections, cutting it open. When Venice hit the ground, the wind was knocked out of her, her body hopped a smidge, and her shoulders hurt.
"Ooohhh..."
At least she still had the scarf.
Amy tightened her grip on Venice. Venice pat her back to signal to let go. Amy did not get the hint at first. After several seconds, Venice was beginning a drum beat on the false red-heads back.
"She needs a touch-up."
When Amy had said that she used her scarf to secure the thingy-majiger, she looked at the dark filled hole again.
"Maybe we can get something to get it down. I want my shirt back anyway."
Looking around the next corner, she saw an old rusty ladder, just barely out of the view of the window it was under.
"Oh for the love of- If I had just turned the corner, UGH."
The ladder was fully extended, which she found odd. Figuring it would just be easier to carry it like it was, instead of folding it and then unfolding it again, Venice held the ladder while stumbling back to the hole.
With a little creak between each step, Venice wondered if her shirt was worth it.
"Hm" she thought "I'll just go for the scarf, for Amy."
Her head now barely appearing in front of the hole, Venice saw the scarf wrapped around a different much smaller hole. Unwrapping it easily, Venice held the scarf out to show Amy.
"Hey, I go-
And then the ladder buckled. Scared, Venice tried to force the ladder back to the wall, but she was already making it lean to far forward, her left palm getting clipped between the ladder sections, cutting it open. When Venice hit the ground, the wind was knocked out of her, her body hopped a smidge, and her shoulders hurt.
"Ooohhh..."
At least she still had the scarf.
Amy had assumed that they had finished with the tower for now, and hopefully forever. She had thought they'd check their bags for supplies and weapons, agree to join up with each other, check their maps, and head off for the unknown.
Amy had not expected Venice to suggest getting her scarf back. Not in the slightest. Amy herself had given the scarf up for lost. It was disappointing losing something she'd had since, God, who knows? And sure, Amy would have loved to have it back. But it wasn't worth the effort. Climbing back up the sheet-rope was a pretty stupid idea.
It seemed Venice had a different idea for getting back up the tower. She walked round to other side of the building. Amy stayed where she was, slightly confused. A few seconds later, Venice returned, now carrying the apparently loose ladder from the other side, fully extended. Amy's mouth opened slightly. Amy tried to think of something to say in order to stop her, but Venice had already begun her ascent before a single thing had popped into Amy's head.
Amy watched Venice from the safety of the ground, wincing in apprehension every time the ladder creaked. Her scarf really wasn't worth all this. Amy would have been fine if Venice simply gave up and came back down the ladder. But she carried on regardless, and after a while, held out the scarf for Amy to see. Amy couldn't help but smile broadly. She called out to Venice.
"Alright, great! Thanks Veni-Oh my God, Venice!?"
Amy's fears had suddenly become reality. The ladder buckled, wobbled, and in what seemed like slow motion, toppled over, carrying Venice with it. Amy could only watch in stunned silence as Venice hit the ground. As soon as she did, though, Amy switched back on, and with another cry of "Venice!" ran towards the other girl. Amy couldn't see any damage done to her aside from a cut or two on her hands, but that didn't mean there wasn't any serious damage at all.
Venice let out a groan, and a surge of relief flooded through Amy. Venice was conscious, at least. She hadn't hit her head too hard or anything. Still, she'd need looking after to some extent. Amy hurried back to her already open bag and started rifling through it, looking for something useful. A first aid kit was lying at the top, already opened. Amy started picking through it for relevant items, calling back to Venice as she did so.
"Venice, I am so, so sorry. I mean, you came here and helped me down, and then you went to get my scarf even though you didn't have to. And all you've got from it is a fall, whilst I stayed safe on the ground."
Damn it, Amy felt awful. She needed to do something for Venice to make up for that, and to repay her for what she'd done. In some way, however, the feeling was a relief. She was acting like she would back home. She was remaining Amy. After all, hadn't that been her intention from the start?
Amy had not expected Venice to suggest getting her scarf back. Not in the slightest. Amy herself had given the scarf up for lost. It was disappointing losing something she'd had since, God, who knows? And sure, Amy would have loved to have it back. But it wasn't worth the effort. Climbing back up the sheet-rope was a pretty stupid idea.
It seemed Venice had a different idea for getting back up the tower. She walked round to other side of the building. Amy stayed where she was, slightly confused. A few seconds later, Venice returned, now carrying the apparently loose ladder from the other side, fully extended. Amy's mouth opened slightly. Amy tried to think of something to say in order to stop her, but Venice had already begun her ascent before a single thing had popped into Amy's head.
Amy watched Venice from the safety of the ground, wincing in apprehension every time the ladder creaked. Her scarf really wasn't worth all this. Amy would have been fine if Venice simply gave up and came back down the ladder. But she carried on regardless, and after a while, held out the scarf for Amy to see. Amy couldn't help but smile broadly. She called out to Venice.
"Alright, great! Thanks Veni-Oh my God, Venice!?"
Amy's fears had suddenly become reality. The ladder buckled, wobbled, and in what seemed like slow motion, toppled over, carrying Venice with it. Amy could only watch in stunned silence as Venice hit the ground. As soon as she did, though, Amy switched back on, and with another cry of "Venice!" ran towards the other girl. Amy couldn't see any damage done to her aside from a cut or two on her hands, but that didn't mean there wasn't any serious damage at all.
Venice let out a groan, and a surge of relief flooded through Amy. Venice was conscious, at least. She hadn't hit her head too hard or anything. Still, she'd need looking after to some extent. Amy hurried back to her already open bag and started rifling through it, looking for something useful. A first aid kit was lying at the top, already opened. Amy started picking through it for relevant items, calling back to Venice as she did so.
"Venice, I am so, so sorry. I mean, you came here and helped me down, and then you went to get my scarf even though you didn't have to. And all you've got from it is a fall, whilst I stayed safe on the ground."
Damn it, Amy felt awful. She needed to do something for Venice to make up for that, and to repay her for what she'd done. In some way, however, the feeling was a relief. She was acting like she would back home. She was remaining Amy. After all, hadn't that been her intention from the start?
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Venice was okay with just lying there, on the dirt. It hurt less then trying to move right now. She wondered how long Amy would let her though. Maybe if she held on to the scarf really tight and didn't let go...
Amy came over screaming, obviously worried. The look on her face was pure distraught, which Venice found a little...unnecessary. Venice didn't have to get the scarf, and Amy didn't ask her to. She just did, so she just figured she only had herself to hold fault towards. Amy then left her quickly, hopefully not for long.
"Owah...at least take the thing..."
Amy did come back, apologizing, already blaming herself for Venice's actions. Of course it wasn't either of their faults. The worse that was supposed to happen, or at least the worst Venice had planned for on their trip to Disney, was that they were too short for the cool rides.
Still though, Amy looked like she was about to bawl. A lot. So Venice laid the scarf on top of Amy's face, she didn't want to see the girl cry. Venice also tussled the crown of Amy's hair, just light enough not to mess it up.
"Shh...it's ok, it's my bad." she spoke softly, most of the air returning to her body.
All in all, Venice didn't find this that bad. She was alive after all, and that was a good deal, thinking about where she was.
Amy came over screaming, obviously worried. The look on her face was pure distraught, which Venice found a little...unnecessary. Venice didn't have to get the scarf, and Amy didn't ask her to. She just did, so she just figured she only had herself to hold fault towards. Amy then left her quickly, hopefully not for long.
"Owah...at least take the thing..."
Amy did come back, apologizing, already blaming herself for Venice's actions. Of course it wasn't either of their faults. The worse that was supposed to happen, or at least the worst Venice had planned for on their trip to Disney, was that they were too short for the cool rides.
Still though, Amy looked like she was about to bawl. A lot. So Venice laid the scarf on top of Amy's face, she didn't want to see the girl cry. Venice also tussled the crown of Amy's hair, just light enough not to mess it up.
"Shh...it's ok, it's my bad." she spoke softly, most of the air returning to her body.
All in all, Venice didn't find this that bad. She was alive after all, and that was a good deal, thinking about where she was.
Suddenly, Amy had her scarf back. Probably woulda been an idea to pick it up after Venice had gone to such an effort to retrieve it, but on the other hand, it might have looked as though Amy cared more about her clothing than about Venice's safety.
A second after giving Amy's scarf back, Venice lightly ruffled her hair, gently speaking to her. It was kind of an odd feeling. The sort of thing her dad would do when Amy was younger and she'd woken up from a nightmare. Maybe, though, that was the exact thing she needed, because she was in a living nightmare right now. It wasn't one she could wake up out of, and it wasn't one she could forget, but Venice's attempts at comforting Amy were enough to keep her together. They were both safe, that was the most important thing. They were safe, and they were going to remain safe for however long it took them to escape the island.
Amy smiled then, and nodded at Venice. Okay, so her plan to stay strong for the cameras and for her family hadn't gotten off to a good start. That was okay. Amy doubted there was a single person on the island who'd reacted in a dignified way upon waking up. She could stay strong from now on. She could remain herself.
Amy dragged her bag over to where Venice was, noticing with disgust the G041' stencilled in white to the side. She had pens and stuff in her bag; she'd find a way of replacing it with her name. She wasn't G041, she was Amy Michelle Bachelor, and she'd be damned if she was going to be remembered any other way.
"I know you're okay, Venice." Amy muttered, preoccupied with going through the first aid kit again. "But you should probably do something about that hand. Here, catch!" Amy chucked a couple of plasters over her shoulder. She also retrieved a packet of antiseptic wipes, and placed them behind her.
Now then. What else's in the bag?
There was a book, written by Danya himself apparently. A torch, a compass, and as expected, a map. Food supplies, which appeared to solely consist of energy bars of some sort. Ick. Amy knew she shouldn't complain, as they were going to keep her alive for the next few days, but still. Ick. Looking underneath them, Amy felt an odd feeling of relief as she discovered a bundle of clothing, all of which was hers. Cardigans, tops, skirts, even a couple of bracelets and necklaces. It seemed the terrorists had placed all of the stuff from her bag into this duffel bag.
The feeling of relief swiftly evaporated as Amy realised that no, the terrorists hadn't transferred all the stuff. Her Kindle, stationery and all her books were missing. The only things left aside from clothes were some makeup. Frustrated, Amy shut the bag after taking the map out, her weapon forgotten for the moment. Amy unfolded it before looking at Venice.
"We should probably think about leaving soon, right? I think this place is out to get us."
A second after giving Amy's scarf back, Venice lightly ruffled her hair, gently speaking to her. It was kind of an odd feeling. The sort of thing her dad would do when Amy was younger and she'd woken up from a nightmare. Maybe, though, that was the exact thing she needed, because she was in a living nightmare right now. It wasn't one she could wake up out of, and it wasn't one she could forget, but Venice's attempts at comforting Amy were enough to keep her together. They were both safe, that was the most important thing. They were safe, and they were going to remain safe for however long it took them to escape the island.
Amy smiled then, and nodded at Venice. Okay, so her plan to stay strong for the cameras and for her family hadn't gotten off to a good start. That was okay. Amy doubted there was a single person on the island who'd reacted in a dignified way upon waking up. She could stay strong from now on. She could remain herself.
Amy dragged her bag over to where Venice was, noticing with disgust the G041' stencilled in white to the side. She had pens and stuff in her bag; she'd find a way of replacing it with her name. She wasn't G041, she was Amy Michelle Bachelor, and she'd be damned if she was going to be remembered any other way.
"I know you're okay, Venice." Amy muttered, preoccupied with going through the first aid kit again. "But you should probably do something about that hand. Here, catch!" Amy chucked a couple of plasters over her shoulder. She also retrieved a packet of antiseptic wipes, and placed them behind her.
Now then. What else's in the bag?
There was a book, written by Danya himself apparently. A torch, a compass, and as expected, a map. Food supplies, which appeared to solely consist of energy bars of some sort. Ick. Amy knew she shouldn't complain, as they were going to keep her alive for the next few days, but still. Ick. Looking underneath them, Amy felt an odd feeling of relief as she discovered a bundle of clothing, all of which was hers. Cardigans, tops, skirts, even a couple of bracelets and necklaces. It seemed the terrorists had placed all of the stuff from her bag into this duffel bag.
The feeling of relief swiftly evaporated as Amy realised that no, the terrorists hadn't transferred all the stuff. Her Kindle, stationery and all her books were missing. The only things left aside from clothes were some makeup. Frustrated, Amy shut the bag after taking the map out, her weapon forgotten for the moment. Amy unfolded it before looking at Venice.
"We should probably think about leaving soon, right? I think this place is out to get us."
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Ah, good, Amy was smiling for once today. Someone had to. Venice winced in pain sitting herself up. She tried moving her arms in a circular motion, but it hurt too much and was making her shoulders even more sore.
Then things were thrown at her.
Her failure at catching the adhesive bandages, not to mention them hitting her nose, only made her shoulders ache and the cut on her hand sting from the clap she used. At least there were antiseptic wipes by her.
While Amy was busy looking through her bags, Venice patched herself up. The wipes stung her hand more, but she knew it would be better for now. She didn't need to get an infection or the flu from what now looked like nothing more then a boo-boo.
Applying the bandages to her palm, Amy began speaking to her again, wanting to leave, naturally.
"There's not much down there." she said pointing down the hill where she just came from.
"Other then that...I don't really know. There might be some other buildings around, but...I feel like resting just a little. Sorry, I'm kind of tired, it's been a long morning so far."
Then things were thrown at her.
Her failure at catching the adhesive bandages, not to mention them hitting her nose, only made her shoulders ache and the cut on her hand sting from the clap she used. At least there were antiseptic wipes by her.
While Amy was busy looking through her bags, Venice patched herself up. The wipes stung her hand more, but she knew it would be better for now. She didn't need to get an infection or the flu from what now looked like nothing more then a boo-boo.
Applying the bandages to her palm, Amy began speaking to her again, wanting to leave, naturally.
"There's not much down there." she said pointing down the hill where she just came from.
"Other then that...I don't really know. There might be some other buildings around, but...I feel like resting just a little. Sorry, I'm kind of tired, it's been a long morning so far."
Amy paused for a split second after Venice had spoken, before turning to look at her, and nodding. Fair enough. Venice did look as though she'd seen better days, and Amy didn't doubt she looked in a similar state. And even though she wanted to get away from the tower as soon as possible, Amy had to admit, just sitting here for a while was a little enticing. Just sitting here in calm and peace. Not quite relaxed, she doubted she'd be relaxed for the rest of her time on the island, but it was a small pause before they plunged headfirst back into the reality.
"Sure thing, totally understand. I'm just gonna kinda..." Amy shuffled round until her back was facing the tower. She continued talking to Venice as she did so. "Kinda not look at the tower, okay? Tell me if you're ready to leave."
There was always the option of leaving Venice alone, and carrying on through these woodlands on her own. Like the option' of the ladder up in the tower, though, this one was a non-starter. There was safety in numbers, for one, and for another, Amy wanted to stick with Venice. Staying with somebody friendly would probably make things a lot more tolerable. If it had been somebody like, say, Alex, or Nina, that had rescued her from the building, then she'd have been grateful as all hell still, but the chances of her sticking with them would probably be slim to non-existent. But it hadn't, it had been Venice, and Amy was perfectly content with sticking with her for now.
Amy started foraging through her bag again, retrieving the map, hoping it'd be useful for planning where to head for next. Unfortunately, Amy had absolutely no idea where she was. She was in some sort of forest area. According to the map, pretty much half of the island was covered in forest. Amy looked up and around, in search of a lighthouse, or a school building, or something from an amusement park, in the hopes it'd give her some idea of where they were. Nope. Nothing in sight but trees, trees and more bloody trees.
Amy sighed, and put her map back in her bag. There was only one thing left to retrieve. Her weapon. Part of Amy wanted to leave it be. She was never going to use it, whatever it was, so why find it? But the rest of Amy knew that a weapon wasn't just important for it's... intended usage. A good weapon could make her appear imposing, and someone not to be messed with. People would listen to her. A bad weapon could be hidden and discarded, or simply shown to people, which would make them see her as harmless and trustworthy. People would listen to her. It was win-win.
Amy found her weapon at the bottom of her bag, and she frowned at it as she held it in both hands. It looked like some sort of club, almost truncheon like, but small and kinda leathery. There had been a note on top, but it took a few seconds for Amy to read it. The writing was handwritten, and hastily done, almost falling off the page. Amy eventually identified the words as saying Blackjack-G041, Amy Bachelor'. At least they were courteous to put her name, this time.
"Blackjack, huh?" Amy murmured. "That's what it's called? D'you think someone else got a poker? We could make a team."
"Sure thing, totally understand. I'm just gonna kinda..." Amy shuffled round until her back was facing the tower. She continued talking to Venice as she did so. "Kinda not look at the tower, okay? Tell me if you're ready to leave."
There was always the option of leaving Venice alone, and carrying on through these woodlands on her own. Like the option' of the ladder up in the tower, though, this one was a non-starter. There was safety in numbers, for one, and for another, Amy wanted to stick with Venice. Staying with somebody friendly would probably make things a lot more tolerable. If it had been somebody like, say, Alex, or Nina, that had rescued her from the building, then she'd have been grateful as all hell still, but the chances of her sticking with them would probably be slim to non-existent. But it hadn't, it had been Venice, and Amy was perfectly content with sticking with her for now.
Amy started foraging through her bag again, retrieving the map, hoping it'd be useful for planning where to head for next. Unfortunately, Amy had absolutely no idea where she was. She was in some sort of forest area. According to the map, pretty much half of the island was covered in forest. Amy looked up and around, in search of a lighthouse, or a school building, or something from an amusement park, in the hopes it'd give her some idea of where they were. Nope. Nothing in sight but trees, trees and more bloody trees.
Amy sighed, and put her map back in her bag. There was only one thing left to retrieve. Her weapon. Part of Amy wanted to leave it be. She was never going to use it, whatever it was, so why find it? But the rest of Amy knew that a weapon wasn't just important for it's... intended usage. A good weapon could make her appear imposing, and someone not to be messed with. People would listen to her. A bad weapon could be hidden and discarded, or simply shown to people, which would make them see her as harmless and trustworthy. People would listen to her. It was win-win.
Amy found her weapon at the bottom of her bag, and she frowned at it as she held it in both hands. It looked like some sort of club, almost truncheon like, but small and kinda leathery. There had been a note on top, but it took a few seconds for Amy to read it. The writing was handwritten, and hastily done, almost falling off the page. Amy eventually identified the words as saying Blackjack-G041, Amy Bachelor'. At least they were courteous to put her name, this time.
"Blackjack, huh?" Amy murmured. "That's what it's called? D'you think someone else got a poker? We could make a team."
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017