“What the fuck!?,” exclaimed Zach. There was a thump at the door, followed by a girl tumbling into the lighthouse. He barely had time to respond to Sven’s roommate experience.
The girl had a bleeding hand and was sobbing in pain. What the hell happened to her hand!? Was it a gunshot? A knife cut? Did someone smash her hand with a hammer? Zach was freaked out by this and Sven didn’t seem to notice it. He just casually welcomed her inside like nothing was wrong.
“Dude, she bleeding!”, Zach shouted at Sven.
Zach looked out the door. He quickly whipped his head around the area, trying to see if anyone else was around. Whoever attacked this girl could still be nearby. Zach quickly closed the door and stuck close to the wall beside it.
“What fucking happened to your hand!?,” Zach asked the girl, panicked.
Just keep breathin' and breathin' and breathin'
(Open)
She slumped against the weathered door, sobbing in terror. She didn't hear the door beside her creak open from the impact of her body. She only knew the light had changed, and that a voice said, "Welcome."
She squealed, staggered back still clutching at her hand, crouching low like a sprinter at the block. Her eyes were wild, flickering between the two men inside the room as she breathed rabbit-quick.
Had to run. Couldn't trust anyone. Learned that lesson. Couldn't unlearn it. Two men she barely knew, and she'd known Reuben, and he had still...he had...
"What fucking happened to your hand?!" the shorter man explained, his eyes wide with worry, and it felt like the question flicked a switch inside her, unblocked a damn, and the words poured out of Terra without her thinking about it.
"Reuben and...another girl were...they were threatening someone, I tried to stop them, they...a knife, a whip, I ran, they were gonna hurt me, I don't..." She shook her head, throwing tears in either direction. "How? How can they do this?"
She squealed, staggered back still clutching at her hand, crouching low like a sprinter at the block. Her eyes were wild, flickering between the two men inside the room as she breathed rabbit-quick.
Had to run. Couldn't trust anyone. Learned that lesson. Couldn't unlearn it. Two men she barely knew, and she'd known Reuben, and he had still...he had...
"What fucking happened to your hand?!" the shorter man explained, his eyes wide with worry, and it felt like the question flicked a switch inside her, unblocked a damn, and the words poured out of Terra without her thinking about it.
"Reuben and...another girl were...they were threatening someone, I tried to stop them, they...a knife, a whip, I ran, they were gonna hurt me, I don't..." She shook her head, throwing tears in either direction. "How? How can they do this?"
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
-
Grand Moff Hissa
- Posts: 2756
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Sven's focus was loose. The girl was talking, telling who'd hurt her, but "another girl" held more meaning to him than "Reuben" did, except insofar as he was fairly certain there was a grammatically-suspect construction in there, Reuben being a traditionally masculine name, but this seemed an impolitic time to ask for clarification and besides, who knew? And who was Sven to judge?
But what was more imperative was another sound, or maybe even a feeling. It was soft, far away, yet also thunderous and immediately close. It was a thump, the impact of something or someone against the side of the lighthouse. While nearly inaudible, Sven caught the telltale fall of more dust, the way the ambient noise went even quieter than before. He was aware that whatever circle had been drawn around this place, keeping them more or less alone and less or more safe had now been shattered, and with the spell broken anything could happen. Not that it mattered, but it might be a good idea to go see just what had changed.
"Come in," he said again, just as blasé as before. His companion's exasperation at his tone meant little. This would not be the worst thing they saw while they were here, and if it was they were blessed indeed. "It's saf—it's quiet here."
Then Sven stood, slowly and carefully, working out the kinks that had settled into his body. He still had his packs slung over his shoulders, having rifled through the assigned one sporting the number eleven without taking it off. It felt awkward, how they were almost inadvertent extensions of him in this moment, but also more awkward to stop and lay them back down. He was, he told himself, just stepping out for a moment, to see what was happening.
"I thought I heard something," Sven said. "I'll be right back once I see what it is."
He stepped around the new girl, gesturing towards the spot he'd just vacated, and set off around the remnants of the tower in a clockwise direction.
He'd made it only a quarter of the way, however, when he stumbled across the fallen plank that had come loose earlier. The sudden movement knocked Sven askew, arms windmilling, and he clipped straight through the ground, falling out of bounds into the misty void beneath without a word and leaving no evidence he'd been there to begin with.
((Sven Vee continued elsewhere))
But what was more imperative was another sound, or maybe even a feeling. It was soft, far away, yet also thunderous and immediately close. It was a thump, the impact of something or someone against the side of the lighthouse. While nearly inaudible, Sven caught the telltale fall of more dust, the way the ambient noise went even quieter than before. He was aware that whatever circle had been drawn around this place, keeping them more or less alone and less or more safe had now been shattered, and with the spell broken anything could happen. Not that it mattered, but it might be a good idea to go see just what had changed.
"Come in," he said again, just as blasé as before. His companion's exasperation at his tone meant little. This would not be the worst thing they saw while they were here, and if it was they were blessed indeed. "It's saf—it's quiet here."
Then Sven stood, slowly and carefully, working out the kinks that had settled into his body. He still had his packs slung over his shoulders, having rifled through the assigned one sporting the number eleven without taking it off. It felt awkward, how they were almost inadvertent extensions of him in this moment, but also more awkward to stop and lay them back down. He was, he told himself, just stepping out for a moment, to see what was happening.
"I thought I heard something," Sven said. "I'll be right back once I see what it is."
He stepped around the new girl, gesturing towards the spot he'd just vacated, and set off around the remnants of the tower in a clockwise direction.
He'd made it only a quarter of the way, however, when he stumbled across the fallen plank that had come loose earlier. The sudden movement knocked Sven askew, arms windmilling, and he clipped straight through the ground, falling out of bounds into the misty void beneath without a word and leaving no evidence he'd been there to begin with.
((Sven Vee continued elsewhere))
-
Grand Moff Hissa
- Posts: 2756
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
((Phillip Olivares continued from Welcome To The Fucking Monkey House))
Thump.
Phillip softly let his head impact the rough, ruined wooden outside of the structure in front of him, then his breath caught because that was way more give than he expected from a goddamn wall, and he'd had quite enough of shitty old structures tumbling to pieces around him today, thank you very much.
Of course, the biggest collapse hadn't been the structure he'd been halfway up. He was honest or self-loathing enough to admit that. The most horrible, fucked up, dumpster fire of a cherry on the shit sundae that had been his attempted rescue mission was that he had flipped the fuck out and run away. He hadn't, you know, hurt anyone. Directly. Physically. He'd done his best to a point, and he'd been proud, but then he'd done his worst right after, had lost his cool and his breath and slunk off and after a few minutes huffing into his inhaler he'd realized that he hadn't even undone Nikki's rope and he couldn't remember if that beam had come free or not and he sort of doubted anyone would go back up to get it if it hadn't.
Would he? Fuck no.
He sort of really meant it that time, too. He meant it a hell of a lot more than he'd meant it when he thought there was no way he was climbing up after Shauna, because Shauna was a person and people mattered, and her predicament had carried him as far as it did and pushed him further than he'd ever thought or wanted and maybe that was why he'd bitched out the second it was resolved? He sort of liked the sound of that better, which meant he wasn't going to let himself keep or believe it.
It was a lot like how he hadn't allowed himself to go back and see what had happened once he stopped freaking out. The others might've been happy to see him, might've forgiven him, or they might've been mad as hell and given him both barrels, really chewed him out and made him stew in it. Thing is, with Danny and Shauna and Nikki he sort of thought the former was more probable and he didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve anything, and that was a category that included being trapped in a mad death game run by terrorists but also encompassed being forgiven for the eminently shitty things he'd done.
So he'd walked, slowly but surely towards the lighthouse, and of course, of course that had to be a worthless pile of ruined rubble too. What else could it be? How else could this go? Nothing went right and everything was horrible and he would've said he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die anywhere else but this place took even the comfort of being able to use that sort of phrase casually.
He gave his head another thump against wall, feeling the rasp of splintery dry wood against his scalp, and then realized that he was hearing voices.
It really shouldn't have been a surprise that there were people at one of the only delineated landmarks, no matter how dumb of one it was. He would've gone off again, set out for some more desolate and anonymous region to exile himself, except he could almost swear he recognized the sound of the words.
Step by step, Phillip edged clockwise around the tower, and before he knew it he found himself looking into an empty, roofless room at a bleeding girl and a short boy in a graphic tee.
"Uh," he said, as he blinked and recognition set in, "hey."
Thump.
Phillip softly let his head impact the rough, ruined wooden outside of the structure in front of him, then his breath caught because that was way more give than he expected from a goddamn wall, and he'd had quite enough of shitty old structures tumbling to pieces around him today, thank you very much.
Of course, the biggest collapse hadn't been the structure he'd been halfway up. He was honest or self-loathing enough to admit that. The most horrible, fucked up, dumpster fire of a cherry on the shit sundae that had been his attempted rescue mission was that he had flipped the fuck out and run away. He hadn't, you know, hurt anyone. Directly. Physically. He'd done his best to a point, and he'd been proud, but then he'd done his worst right after, had lost his cool and his breath and slunk off and after a few minutes huffing into his inhaler he'd realized that he hadn't even undone Nikki's rope and he couldn't remember if that beam had come free or not and he sort of doubted anyone would go back up to get it if it hadn't.
Would he? Fuck no.
He sort of really meant it that time, too. He meant it a hell of a lot more than he'd meant it when he thought there was no way he was climbing up after Shauna, because Shauna was a person and people mattered, and her predicament had carried him as far as it did and pushed him further than he'd ever thought or wanted and maybe that was why he'd bitched out the second it was resolved? He sort of liked the sound of that better, which meant he wasn't going to let himself keep or believe it.
It was a lot like how he hadn't allowed himself to go back and see what had happened once he stopped freaking out. The others might've been happy to see him, might've forgiven him, or they might've been mad as hell and given him both barrels, really chewed him out and made him stew in it. Thing is, with Danny and Shauna and Nikki he sort of thought the former was more probable and he didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve anything, and that was a category that included being trapped in a mad death game run by terrorists but also encompassed being forgiven for the eminently shitty things he'd done.
So he'd walked, slowly but surely towards the lighthouse, and of course, of course that had to be a worthless pile of ruined rubble too. What else could it be? How else could this go? Nothing went right and everything was horrible and he would've said he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die anywhere else but this place took even the comfort of being able to use that sort of phrase casually.
He gave his head another thump against wall, feeling the rasp of splintery dry wood against his scalp, and then realized that he was hearing voices.
It really shouldn't have been a surprise that there were people at one of the only delineated landmarks, no matter how dumb of one it was. He would've gone off again, set out for some more desolate and anonymous region to exile himself, except he could almost swear he recognized the sound of the words.
Step by step, Phillip edged clockwise around the tower, and before he knew it he found himself looking into an empty, roofless room at a bleeding girl and a short boy in a graphic tee.
"Uh," he said, as he blinked and recognition set in, "hey."
((Mikki Swift continued from God Bless America [Island Remix ft. DJ TAIPAN]))
"Why are you following me?"
Mikki didn't know why she was asking a question she already knew the answer to. When Mikki ran, she hadn't checked the map, and by the time she stopped she'd hit the coastline, and soon after Bree caught up. They'd barely exchanged words, but suddenly they were travelling with each other along the ocean. Mikki still didn't know what she was going to do, only knowing she needed to get the fuck away from Abel's body so she could stop thinking about it, but with that she suddenly had no purpose. She wanted to find her friends, to find her boyfriend, and figure something the hell out, but all she could do was walk, and for that she felt useless, like nothing was being done.
She didn't know how Bree was doing. They'd done barely anything above the basic pleasantries outside of the context of a dead friend, and most of the time spent walking was done in silence, occasionally stopping if either of them heard something. Mikki's gun was taken out of her bulging duffle for a few moments, and when nothing transpired it disappeared again. The process repeated itself several times before they were suddenly looking at a lighthouse in the distance, the first actual building they'd come across in the entirety of her time there.
Mikki stood still, staring at the ruined beacon sitting on the edge of what remained of her world. It was a building, but she'd seen better buildings. Hell, even that dilapidated Playboy mansion she'd visited one time back in Chattanooga was a better building that this, and that one barely even had a purpose, at least not one Mikki could remember right now. And she felt the building, honestly. At some point she could probably have been a functioning item, but she could only feel the pieces around her. If work was put into her from the point she was at right now, she could one day be whole again, but more likely than not her time would run out before that came to pass.
So rather than think about that any longer, she turned back around to Bree.
"I'm sorry, I'm just...fuck, I still don't know what to do, y'know? I just wanna find my friends, and I guess you probably do too, and..."
Mikki couldn't figure out an ending to that sentence, so she turned back around in frustration, looking at the building in the distance. Without another word, she kept walking.
Eventually, the curves of the path evened out, and she could see the makings of the structure. It looked even worse up close, and Mikki was close to throwing up her hands in frustration and walking back in the other direction, hoping to find another building, when she saw someone disappear around the corner. With the precision of muscle memory, she zipped open the flap of her bag as she stepped quietly to the corner and took a look around.
And thank fuck it was a familiar face. It wasn't an Abel, wasn't even close to being as good as a Forrest or Charelle, but in these trying times, a Phillip would do.
"Phil!"
Zipping her bag back up, she strode forward to the closest thing she could find to a friend right now and pulled him into a hug. In real life, he wasn't a hugging friend, but in these circumstances he would do. She didn't even know if he liked hugging, or hugged anyone, ever. It was just something she needed. Eventually, she disentangled herself. She wasn't sure if she was still drenched in mud water enough to leave behind an imprint, so rather than checking, she just kept talking.
"Sorry, I...Abel's dead. I found his body. I..."
Mikki noticed the large gap in the wall beside them, and saw the two people sitting in the room.
"Oh. Hi, sorry, I...fuck, wish I had better news. Someone killed my friend."
"Why are you following me?"
Mikki didn't know why she was asking a question she already knew the answer to. When Mikki ran, she hadn't checked the map, and by the time she stopped she'd hit the coastline, and soon after Bree caught up. They'd barely exchanged words, but suddenly they were travelling with each other along the ocean. Mikki still didn't know what she was going to do, only knowing she needed to get the fuck away from Abel's body so she could stop thinking about it, but with that she suddenly had no purpose. She wanted to find her friends, to find her boyfriend, and figure something the hell out, but all she could do was walk, and for that she felt useless, like nothing was being done.
She didn't know how Bree was doing. They'd done barely anything above the basic pleasantries outside of the context of a dead friend, and most of the time spent walking was done in silence, occasionally stopping if either of them heard something. Mikki's gun was taken out of her bulging duffle for a few moments, and when nothing transpired it disappeared again. The process repeated itself several times before they were suddenly looking at a lighthouse in the distance, the first actual building they'd come across in the entirety of her time there.
Mikki stood still, staring at the ruined beacon sitting on the edge of what remained of her world. It was a building, but she'd seen better buildings. Hell, even that dilapidated Playboy mansion she'd visited one time back in Chattanooga was a better building that this, and that one barely even had a purpose, at least not one Mikki could remember right now. And she felt the building, honestly. At some point she could probably have been a functioning item, but she could only feel the pieces around her. If work was put into her from the point she was at right now, she could one day be whole again, but more likely than not her time would run out before that came to pass.
So rather than think about that any longer, she turned back around to Bree.
"I'm sorry, I'm just...fuck, I still don't know what to do, y'know? I just wanna find my friends, and I guess you probably do too, and..."
Mikki couldn't figure out an ending to that sentence, so she turned back around in frustration, looking at the building in the distance. Without another word, she kept walking.
Eventually, the curves of the path evened out, and she could see the makings of the structure. It looked even worse up close, and Mikki was close to throwing up her hands in frustration and walking back in the other direction, hoping to find another building, when she saw someone disappear around the corner. With the precision of muscle memory, she zipped open the flap of her bag as she stepped quietly to the corner and took a look around.
And thank fuck it was a familiar face. It wasn't an Abel, wasn't even close to being as good as a Forrest or Charelle, but in these trying times, a Phillip would do.
"Phil!"
Zipping her bag back up, she strode forward to the closest thing she could find to a friend right now and pulled him into a hug. In real life, he wasn't a hugging friend, but in these circumstances he would do. She didn't even know if he liked hugging, or hugged anyone, ever. It was just something she needed. Eventually, she disentangled herself. She wasn't sure if she was still drenched in mud water enough to leave behind an imprint, so rather than checking, she just kept talking.
"Sorry, I...Abel's dead. I found his body. I..."
Mikki noticed the large gap in the wall beside them, and saw the two people sitting in the room.
"Oh. Hi, sorry, I...fuck, wish I had better news. Someone killed my friend."
“Hey!”
Bree raised an arm in greeting. The people inside might have heard her before they saw her.
((Bree Jones continued from everyone’s favorite remix of an old classic))
She’d caught up to Mikki, and they… traveled together, she guessed. Bree didn’t have an answer to her question, not really. See, though, it made sense to stick together, right? Mikki had the gun, which covered for Bree’s lack of actual… well, firepower. And, well, she was proving to be the impulsive type, Jesus Christ.
Bree had crossed her arms in thought when Mikki brought up “finding friends.” Who did she want to find? It also made sense to find people who were… also pretty practical about things. But on the other…
Okay, Bree had to be a dick and say that there were certain people she’d care more about if she found out they were dead than others. But really, putting it like that was harsh, but there was always someone.
So they’d walked a bit more.
And that’s when they found freaky clown Dr. Phil Pedantik at the lighthouse, along with two other people just inside.
Bree stood some feet away as Mikki hugged him. She tried to push the more vivid parts of Abel away for a moment, and maybe just… explain, she guessed.
“Yeah… we found him at the rice paddy place. Wasn’t a good situation.”
She looked away for a moment. It was an excuse to scout out the location a bit more, see if they were being followed. Yes. That was what that was. Bree looked back.
“Um, faring any better?”
Might be good to scout out what’s the whole sitch before acting.
Bree raised an arm in greeting. The people inside might have heard her before they saw her.
((Bree Jones continued from everyone’s favorite remix of an old classic))
She’d caught up to Mikki, and they… traveled together, she guessed. Bree didn’t have an answer to her question, not really. See, though, it made sense to stick together, right? Mikki had the gun, which covered for Bree’s lack of actual… well, firepower. And, well, she was proving to be the impulsive type, Jesus Christ.
Bree had crossed her arms in thought when Mikki brought up “finding friends.” Who did she want to find? It also made sense to find people who were… also pretty practical about things. But on the other…
Okay, Bree had to be a dick and say that there were certain people she’d care more about if she found out they were dead than others. But really, putting it like that was harsh, but there was always someone.
So they’d walked a bit more.
And that’s when they found freaky clown Dr. Phil Pedantik at the lighthouse, along with two other people just inside.
Bree stood some feet away as Mikki hugged him. She tried to push the more vivid parts of Abel away for a moment, and maybe just… explain, she guessed.
“Yeah… we found him at the rice paddy place. Wasn’t a good situation.”
She looked away for a moment. It was an excuse to scout out the location a bit more, see if they were being followed. Yes. That was what that was. Bree looked back.
“Um, faring any better?”
Might be good to scout out what’s the whole sitch before acting.
“Heeeeeey,” said Zach, suspicion in his voice. As soon as Sven left, Phillip Olivares took his place. Clown boy was then suddenly joined by Mikki Swift, a musician, and Bree Jones, a swimmer girl. Where the hell did these guys come from!?
Mikki then mentioned she saw that one of her friends had died. Abel was it? If Yuko was hear, she’d probably would be pleased that her proposed one-kill-per-day quota was upheld. Still, it was some disturbing news regardless.
Zach looked at the bleeding girl and back at the trio of newcomers.
“Do you know guys know her,” Zach said, pointing at the bleeding girl, the suspicious tone unwavering, “her hand’s been sliced. Said that Reuben and some other girl did it.”
Speaking of which, apparently Reuben and this “other girl” were threatening someone when they had cut her hand. Zach knew there were those in his class who were less-than-stable, but already students were doing some fucked up shit. What else could happen on the first day, an orgy? Then again, he saw an emotionally distressed girl with a sword earlier, so it shouldn’t really come as a surprise that people would be losing their shit so early.
“Y’know, before you guys got here,” Zach began, “Katrina, the pop star wannabe, was brandishing a sword. Then Yuko “whatever-her-last-name-is” said we should prolong this game and wait for rescue. I decided to duck in here with Sven, and then this girl came bursting in here with a bleeding hand. And that brings us to now.”
Mikki then mentioned she saw that one of her friends had died. Abel was it? If Yuko was hear, she’d probably would be pleased that her proposed one-kill-per-day quota was upheld. Still, it was some disturbing news regardless.
Zach looked at the bleeding girl and back at the trio of newcomers.
“Do you know guys know her,” Zach said, pointing at the bleeding girl, the suspicious tone unwavering, “her hand’s been sliced. Said that Reuben and some other girl did it.”
Speaking of which, apparently Reuben and this “other girl” were threatening someone when they had cut her hand. Zach knew there were those in his class who were less-than-stable, but already students were doing some fucked up shit. What else could happen on the first day, an orgy? Then again, he saw an emotionally distressed girl with a sword earlier, so it shouldn’t really come as a surprise that people would be losing their shit so early.
“Y’know, before you guys got here,” Zach began, “Katrina, the pop star wannabe, was brandishing a sword. Then Yuko “whatever-her-last-name-is” said we should prolong this game and wait for rescue. I decided to duck in here with Sven, and then this girl came bursting in here with a bleeding hand. And that brings us to now.”
She heard the same thump Sven did, and whirled around, briefly forgetting her fear of the strangers in her terror of the outside threat. She stepped into the ruined lighthouse without thinking, until she was shoulder to should with the other boy, her eyes feverishly searching the doorway for any sign of threat.
The next face she saw was not Sven's.
Terra didn't know what she'd expected. She knew Phil had gone on the trip--she'd studiously tried to avoid him, still prickling with embarrassment about what had happened (or not happened) the last time they'd seen each other. But somehow every thought of him had gone out of her mind. Maybe it was the bomb strapped to her neck, or the knife that had cut into her palm.
But one way or another, it had never occurred to her she might see Phil O again.
"Uh. Hey."
"Phil?" Terra managed, in a small voice.
"Phil!"
A much louder voice, a shout form outside, and a form rushed Phil, wrestling him to the ground, a knife sinking into his throat-
No, just her terror, just her fear. But there was a girl hugging him. Hugging Phil. Phil, who wouldn't even so much as kiss-
Idiot idiot idiot are we really thinking about now people are dying, listen to them, someone's dead (Abel's dead maybe Cain did it maybe we're all Cain hahahahahahahahha), and this other boy is talking about someone brandishing a sword, and the fear is still there but it's dimmed a little and mostly Terra's wondering if everyone she's ever known has lost their fucking minds.
The shape who hugged Phil (touched him) is Mikki, her one-time lab partner. Their only common connection is their mutual loathing during that chem class. And behind her is...
"Bree?"
She's played video games with Bree before. Mostly RTS games, both of them branching off a little bit from what they usually play. She actually liked Bree.
You used to like Reuben.
Terra remains where she is, unconsciously shying closer to the boy she doesn't know. She had heard the fear and confusion in his voice. She hopes that means he won't hurt her. She doesn't know about anyone.
The next face she saw was not Sven's.
Terra didn't know what she'd expected. She knew Phil had gone on the trip--she'd studiously tried to avoid him, still prickling with embarrassment about what had happened (or not happened) the last time they'd seen each other. But somehow every thought of him had gone out of her mind. Maybe it was the bomb strapped to her neck, or the knife that had cut into her palm.
But one way or another, it had never occurred to her she might see Phil O again.
"Uh. Hey."
"Phil?" Terra managed, in a small voice.
"Phil!"
A much louder voice, a shout form outside, and a form rushed Phil, wrestling him to the ground, a knife sinking into his throat-
No, just her terror, just her fear. But there was a girl hugging him. Hugging Phil. Phil, who wouldn't even so much as kiss-
Idiot idiot idiot are we really thinking about now people are dying, listen to them, someone's dead (Abel's dead maybe Cain did it maybe we're all Cain hahahahahahahahha), and this other boy is talking about someone brandishing a sword, and the fear is still there but it's dimmed a little and mostly Terra's wondering if everyone she's ever known has lost their fucking minds.
The shape who hugged Phil (touched him) is Mikki, her one-time lab partner. Their only common connection is their mutual loathing during that chem class. And behind her is...
"Bree?"
She's played video games with Bree before. Mostly RTS games, both of them branching off a little bit from what they usually play. She actually liked Bree.
You used to like Reuben.
Terra remains where she is, unconsciously shying closer to the boy she doesn't know. She had heard the fear and confusion in his voice. She hopes that means he won't hurt her. She doesn't know about anyone.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
-
Grand Moff Hissa
- Posts: 2756
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Phillip didn't squeal, which was actually a pretty good moment for him, he had to admit, because all of a sudden life had gotten a whole lot more complicated, like makes-being-up-on-that-net-seem-simple-and-peachy complicated, but what could he really expect? This was Survival of the Fittest, and it was all about making every last little moment of life an unending barrage of surprise and misery, the surprise being found mostly in the form and magnitude of the misery rather than its presence; it was, naturally, always present. So keeping his composure, barely, for a second or two? He'd take it. Especially with all he'd figured out as his brain caught up with his feet.
Complication the first was that the girl with the bleeding hand was Terra who was, like, actually someone Phillip knew and liked. They had some things in common that were, well, different from the points of connection he had with most of the people around school, specifically circling around church. See, a lot of people were kind of surprised to find out Phillip went to church, and even more surprised to find out he did it not only willingly but with a fair deal of enthusiasm. It wasn't like he was embarrassed by it, more... it just didn't fit with his image and style in obvious ways, and he had a hard time explaining it to people. Most people had no idea that ICP was absolutely jam-packed with Christian symbols and motifs and messages; they just heard the violent clown shit and assumed it was its own end, and that was fair enough but that meant everyone thought of Phillip as the crazy clown kid, not the Christian clown kid, and walking them from Point A to Point B was a pain in the ass and made him feel like a jerk besides because he didn't care what anyone else believed in as long as they weren't dicks about it, but like most things he had a hard time really digging into it without really, really digging into it in depth. And even fewer people wanted to hear that than The Aristocrats.
So it was cool that there were people like Terra who were kickass and also into faith, but also that made stuff kind of awkward sometimes, because Phillip was a little (okay, understating it some there) awkward around girls in the best of situations, and some of the stuff that made him shy away from even thinking too hard about romance actually didn't apply to Terra because of certain shared values and assumptions and that, rather than making him more comfortable, made him a dozen times more awkward. And that was in normal, day to day life, not when Terra was messed up and bloody-handed and they were all going to die.
Which brought him to complication the second—well, chronologically the third, but put it second for the sake of flow—which was this: one of Phillip's roommates had allegedly gone bugshit and caused Terra's injury. The very first thing to come to mind (though thankfully kept captive there rather than escaping between his lips) was "Did he trip and bump her or something?" because Phillip had a long mental list of who exactly was most scary and intimidating at school and Reuben was one of the only people he'd probably have slotted below himself. Like, what could be said about him that made him sound like trouble? Reuben was tall and wore black sometimes? Being a mascot was officially furry-adjacent? Whoops, end of the list. So if Reuben was going all Scream on people then the state of affairs was indisputably fucked up.
But there wasn't really time to parse that or figure out if there were mistakes or ask for clarification or whatever, because of complication the third, the fact that Phillip had been grabbed and manhandled by Mikki Swift, just arrived with Bree some-boring-last-name-Phillip-had-forgotten in tow, and he was sort of relieved for friendly contact and totally relieved he wasn't getting shivved in the kidney and also beating himself up hard because he didn't deserve nice things, not right now, and he'd been trying to cast himself into the wilderness but now here were all these pretty okay people, just in time to link up until he sold them up the creek like the last batch.
Oh right, Zach. Zach was the guy with Terra, and he was okay too. Pretty funny. Took stuff a bit too far sometimes, but that was the hallmark of real comedic genius, in Phillip's not-so-humble opinion. Anything worth laughing about would ruffle a few feathers, and the worst he could say about Zach was that the boy sometimes didn't quite wrangle the punching-up vs. punching-down cleanly. And that wasn't a joke about his height, honest. Phillip was too short himself to take that sort of shot.
"Hey," he said again. "Hey, Mikki, Bree, Zach, Terra, good to see you all, hey, why don't we all come inside and sit down for a few?"
Calm down, chill out, see what they could do about the bleeding and the general universal fucked-upness.
"Maybe we can make a plan, or, like, at least get some rest?"
He looked around at the others, trying not to think about complication the fourth: Abel, dead, confirmed by Mikki and Bree. He couldn't even imagine.
...Shauna and Danny had been alright, right? He was sure they had. He sure told himself they had.
"Someone would've probably seen if anyone else was lurking around here, right? So we should have a little to just decompress."
Without waiting for full confirmation or invitation, he made his way in and parked next to Terra, trying to decide whether he should help with her hand or just accept that it'd lead to him throwing up and running away again.
Complication the first was that the girl with the bleeding hand was Terra who was, like, actually someone Phillip knew and liked. They had some things in common that were, well, different from the points of connection he had with most of the people around school, specifically circling around church. See, a lot of people were kind of surprised to find out Phillip went to church, and even more surprised to find out he did it not only willingly but with a fair deal of enthusiasm. It wasn't like he was embarrassed by it, more... it just didn't fit with his image and style in obvious ways, and he had a hard time explaining it to people. Most people had no idea that ICP was absolutely jam-packed with Christian symbols and motifs and messages; they just heard the violent clown shit and assumed it was its own end, and that was fair enough but that meant everyone thought of Phillip as the crazy clown kid, not the Christian clown kid, and walking them from Point A to Point B was a pain in the ass and made him feel like a jerk besides because he didn't care what anyone else believed in as long as they weren't dicks about it, but like most things he had a hard time really digging into it without really, really digging into it in depth. And even fewer people wanted to hear that than The Aristocrats.
So it was cool that there were people like Terra who were kickass and also into faith, but also that made stuff kind of awkward sometimes, because Phillip was a little (okay, understating it some there) awkward around girls in the best of situations, and some of the stuff that made him shy away from even thinking too hard about romance actually didn't apply to Terra because of certain shared values and assumptions and that, rather than making him more comfortable, made him a dozen times more awkward. And that was in normal, day to day life, not when Terra was messed up and bloody-handed and they were all going to die.
Which brought him to complication the second—well, chronologically the third, but put it second for the sake of flow—which was this: one of Phillip's roommates had allegedly gone bugshit and caused Terra's injury. The very first thing to come to mind (though thankfully kept captive there rather than escaping between his lips) was "Did he trip and bump her or something?" because Phillip had a long mental list of who exactly was most scary and intimidating at school and Reuben was one of the only people he'd probably have slotted below himself. Like, what could be said about him that made him sound like trouble? Reuben was tall and wore black sometimes? Being a mascot was officially furry-adjacent? Whoops, end of the list. So if Reuben was going all Scream on people then the state of affairs was indisputably fucked up.
But there wasn't really time to parse that or figure out if there were mistakes or ask for clarification or whatever, because of complication the third, the fact that Phillip had been grabbed and manhandled by Mikki Swift, just arrived with Bree some-boring-last-name-Phillip-had-forgotten in tow, and he was sort of relieved for friendly contact and totally relieved he wasn't getting shivved in the kidney and also beating himself up hard because he didn't deserve nice things, not right now, and he'd been trying to cast himself into the wilderness but now here were all these pretty okay people, just in time to link up until he sold them up the creek like the last batch.
Oh right, Zach. Zach was the guy with Terra, and he was okay too. Pretty funny. Took stuff a bit too far sometimes, but that was the hallmark of real comedic genius, in Phillip's not-so-humble opinion. Anything worth laughing about would ruffle a few feathers, and the worst he could say about Zach was that the boy sometimes didn't quite wrangle the punching-up vs. punching-down cleanly. And that wasn't a joke about his height, honest. Phillip was too short himself to take that sort of shot.
"Hey," he said again. "Hey, Mikki, Bree, Zach, Terra, good to see you all, hey, why don't we all come inside and sit down for a few?"
Calm down, chill out, see what they could do about the bleeding and the general universal fucked-upness.
"Maybe we can make a plan, or, like, at least get some rest?"
He looked around at the others, trying not to think about complication the fourth: Abel, dead, confirmed by Mikki and Bree. He couldn't even imagine.
...Shauna and Danny had been alright, right? He was sure they had. He sure told himself they had.
"Someone would've probably seen if anyone else was lurking around here, right? So we should have a little to just decompress."
Without waiting for full confirmation or invitation, he made his way in and parked next to Terra, trying to decide whether he should help with her hand or just accept that it'd lead to him throwing up and running away again.
There were a lot of names being thrown around right now, so as Mikki stood there listening to everyone spout off what they'd seen and what they wanted to do, she had to take a mental leap to the top just to keep ahold of them all.
Zachary Beck, someone who back home thought prank videos were funny. And prank videos were funny, sometimes, but not when it's your entire personality, my dude.
Terra Johnson, one of the more notable bible thumpers running around school, but also one who had a bug up her ass about Mikki that one time they were paired up together in chem lab, so Mikki returned the favour.
Reuben, probably Walters, the school mascot. Not someone who Mikki would have taken to try and cut up the bible thumpers according to Zach, but that was where they were at right now.
Katrina Lavell, attempt-er of music, fail-er at the same subject, reportedly running around like she was in that cartoon the weebs in her circle watched with the giants.
Yuko Hayashibara, the popular one of those Asian triplets, despite probably being the former horse girl of the school.
Sven, probably Vee, the one blank in her knowledge. Was he a weeb? Was he gay? Was he an artist? That was her best guess, she pretty much hit half the school with those three circles of the venn diagram.
The one thing they all had in common was that none of them were Mikki's friends. Phillip and Bree weren't Mikki's friends, but she'd talked about music back at school with the former (even if it was music that made her want to give up and make a real go at the running thing) and the latter helped her put Abel to rest, so close enough. They were diverse enough, probably had not too much overlap in friends, and none of them seemed to want to kill each other.
So that could be of help.
Mikki stepped inside after Phillip and his kumbaya circle suggestion, and sat opposite the two who were already there. The ground was scattered with debris that made her previous explorations in skeletons of buildings look goddamn obsessive-compulsive by comparison, but Mikki found a spot for her to sit, and even then she could feel the dirt and dust sticking to the bottom of her jacket and the rear of her pants. But it was done.
"Okay."
That was usually how it started with Mikki - an "okay".
"Okay, so."
That was how it continued.
"Since we're all sitting in a circle right now and none of us are trying to kill each other, it looks like we've got the start of something going. So I'm thinking we all work together for now and keep all of us safe."
All suggestions started with flimsy foundation, right?
"We're the only ones here, so that means we're safe for now. But it's gonna get dark soon and that could change. It'll probably take a while to get to-"
And Mikki was suddenly aware she'd only taken one look at the map, and that was before Abel happened. The entire reason she was here in the first place was because she was too preoccupied with moving rather than checking where she needed to move, so to that end she unzipped her bag, pushed aside the safe machinegun, and pulled out the damp piece of paper that was once her map. The folds felt like they could crumble at any moment, so she quickly but tautly expanded it so they could see everything that was on it, and by they it was obviously just Mikki who was this woefully underprepared despite just how much she wanted to play leader right now.
"-okay this place looks nearest, the village. Probably houses there, probably a lot safer there, but I don't wanna go out on Murder Island at night, so...I think we should stay here the night."
Mikki's unassuredness melted away when she suddenly realized what she was meant to do.
"Patch ourselves up, get some good food and water in, make sure we can sleep, and then when it's morning and...well I suppose we're gonna find out tomorrow who else is dead, that's how it works yeah? We head there then, see who we can find, and then, we..."
Mikki's pause wasn't intentional, but it was really all she had at this point because just what did you do to survive on Murder Island?
"I suppose if nobody's got a better idea than getting everyone we know together and riding this thing out until someone can rescue us, then we should probably do that."
It felt triumphant, finally having a goal and not just running from how scared she'd been. But she'd need more than just herself and maybe Bree to put this through, she'd need this wide array of people who all had their own friends. Mikki knew how the social scene worked at George Hunter - find one person, take another person, and even if they're complete opposites you can trace a thread through the entire student body from one end to the other somehow.
"I'd make y'all do a blood pact or a mud pact or a spit pact or whatever, but I suppose we're not kids anymore. So yeah, who's in?"
Zachary Beck, someone who back home thought prank videos were funny. And prank videos were funny, sometimes, but not when it's your entire personality, my dude.
Terra Johnson, one of the more notable bible thumpers running around school, but also one who had a bug up her ass about Mikki that one time they were paired up together in chem lab, so Mikki returned the favour.
Reuben, probably Walters, the school mascot. Not someone who Mikki would have taken to try and cut up the bible thumpers according to Zach, but that was where they were at right now.
Katrina Lavell, attempt-er of music, fail-er at the same subject, reportedly running around like she was in that cartoon the weebs in her circle watched with the giants.
Yuko Hayashibara, the popular one of those Asian triplets, despite probably being the former horse girl of the school.
Sven, probably Vee, the one blank in her knowledge. Was he a weeb? Was he gay? Was he an artist? That was her best guess, she pretty much hit half the school with those three circles of the venn diagram.
The one thing they all had in common was that none of them were Mikki's friends. Phillip and Bree weren't Mikki's friends, but she'd talked about music back at school with the former (even if it was music that made her want to give up and make a real go at the running thing) and the latter helped her put Abel to rest, so close enough. They were diverse enough, probably had not too much overlap in friends, and none of them seemed to want to kill each other.
So that could be of help.
Mikki stepped inside after Phillip and his kumbaya circle suggestion, and sat opposite the two who were already there. The ground was scattered with debris that made her previous explorations in skeletons of buildings look goddamn obsessive-compulsive by comparison, but Mikki found a spot for her to sit, and even then she could feel the dirt and dust sticking to the bottom of her jacket and the rear of her pants. But it was done.
"Okay."
That was usually how it started with Mikki - an "okay".
"Okay, so."
That was how it continued.
"Since we're all sitting in a circle right now and none of us are trying to kill each other, it looks like we've got the start of something going. So I'm thinking we all work together for now and keep all of us safe."
All suggestions started with flimsy foundation, right?
"We're the only ones here, so that means we're safe for now. But it's gonna get dark soon and that could change. It'll probably take a while to get to-"
And Mikki was suddenly aware she'd only taken one look at the map, and that was before Abel happened. The entire reason she was here in the first place was because she was too preoccupied with moving rather than checking where she needed to move, so to that end she unzipped her bag, pushed aside the safe machinegun, and pulled out the damp piece of paper that was once her map. The folds felt like they could crumble at any moment, so she quickly but tautly expanded it so they could see everything that was on it, and by they it was obviously just Mikki who was this woefully underprepared despite just how much she wanted to play leader right now.
"-okay this place looks nearest, the village. Probably houses there, probably a lot safer there, but I don't wanna go out on Murder Island at night, so...I think we should stay here the night."
Mikki's unassuredness melted away when she suddenly realized what she was meant to do.
"Patch ourselves up, get some good food and water in, make sure we can sleep, and then when it's morning and...well I suppose we're gonna find out tomorrow who else is dead, that's how it works yeah? We head there then, see who we can find, and then, we..."
Mikki's pause wasn't intentional, but it was really all she had at this point because just what did you do to survive on Murder Island?
"I suppose if nobody's got a better idea than getting everyone we know together and riding this thing out until someone can rescue us, then we should probably do that."
It felt triumphant, finally having a goal and not just running from how scared she'd been. But she'd need more than just herself and maybe Bree to put this through, she'd need this wide array of people who all had their own friends. Mikki knew how the social scene worked at George Hunter - find one person, take another person, and even if they're complete opposites you can trace a thread through the entire student body from one end to the other somehow.
"I'd make y'all do a blood pact or a mud pact or a spit pact or whatever, but I suppose we're not kids anymore. So yeah, who's in?"
Then suddenly, everything happened at once, and Bree had to pick which thing to react to first.
Prank video Zachary Beck was here, looking lost. But he asked if they knew “her,” and gestured to a girl who had a cut up hand? And that was Terra Johnson, and she was a bit of a bible-thumper, sure, but damn if she knew her way around a RTS, and… she had a cut up hand because of Reuben the mascot and a different girl? Then little miss wannabe Ariana Grande had been running around with a sword, and one of the triplets apparently wanted to “prolong the game and wait for rescue,” whatever that meant, and something about Sven, who wasn’t here.
It… was a lot.
Bree rubbed her forehead.
“Right...” she said at Dr. Phil’s suggestion.
She really needed to take all that info in one at a time, she realized.
Bree placed her things down some feet away from the door, and began unzipping her bag. But Mikki spoke, and Bree pulled herself into the circle, holding the first aid kit she’d been looking for. She chewed on that thought for a moment.
“Okay… so, I’m fine with that plan. Stay here for the night, then move to the village tomorrow morning?”
It was a good idea. Bree’s plan before running into the group and… Abel was to basically keep low and not try to bring too much attention to herself, and it still was. So it worked for her.
She turned to Terra.
“Terra? Need your hand.”
Bree lifted the first aid kit to show what she meant.
Prank video Zachary Beck was here, looking lost. But he asked if they knew “her,” and gestured to a girl who had a cut up hand? And that was Terra Johnson, and she was a bit of a bible-thumper, sure, but damn if she knew her way around a RTS, and… she had a cut up hand because of Reuben the mascot and a different girl? Then little miss wannabe Ariana Grande had been running around with a sword, and one of the triplets apparently wanted to “prolong the game and wait for rescue,” whatever that meant, and something about Sven, who wasn’t here.
It… was a lot.
Bree rubbed her forehead.
“Right...” she said at Dr. Phil’s suggestion.
She really needed to take all that info in one at a time, she realized.
Bree placed her things down some feet away from the door, and began unzipping her bag. But Mikki spoke, and Bree pulled herself into the circle, holding the first aid kit she’d been looking for. She chewed on that thought for a moment.
“Okay… so, I’m fine with that plan. Stay here for the night, then move to the village tomorrow morning?”
It was a good idea. Bree’s plan before running into the group and… Abel was to basically keep low and not try to bring too much attention to herself, and it still was. So it worked for her.
She turned to Terra.
“Terra? Need your hand.”
Bree lifted the first aid kit to show what she meant.
Okay, so these new people are gonna hunker down in this lighthouse too. As if feeling overwhelmed by the sight of a girl with a fucking bleeding hand was enough. Besides, Zach didn’t really know these people aside from reputation, so how could he possibly trust them? Then again, he didn’t know Sven all that well and they had made conversation without anything getting out of hand. Oh well, may as well make due despite the cramped space, since it looked like no one here meant any harm.
Zach’s head perked up when Mikki came up with a plan that was pretty much the same thing that he wanted to do to begin with.
“Yeah, I’m down with that,” Zach said to Mikki, “I was planning on heading there in the morning anyway.”
Zach took a moment to think on what else Mikki had said. Like Yuko, she also thought they could prolong this death game long enough for a rescue that will never fucking come. Again, he didn’t see that happening. Still, he didn’t want to ruin his chances of having cover as he made his way towards the village, so he said nothing.
Zach’s head perked up when Mikki came up with a plan that was pretty much the same thing that he wanted to do to begin with.
“Yeah, I’m down with that,” Zach said to Mikki, “I was planning on heading there in the morning anyway.”
Zach took a moment to think on what else Mikki had said. Like Yuko, she also thought they could prolong this death game long enough for a rescue that will never fucking come. Again, he didn’t see that happening. Still, he didn’t want to ruin his chances of having cover as he made his way towards the village, so he said nothing.
Terra wanted to run again.
She shouldn't have stopped. She should never have stopped. No sooner did she stop then new dangers reared up from the closing evening. Dangers like Phil, always uncertain, and now that uncertainty was punctuated by the threat of violence. Dangers like Mikki, always repugnant, and if she had chosen over and over again to reject God's light then who knew what fresh sins she might commit? Dangers like Bree, too friendly, and she had seen what so-called friends might do on this island. Dangers like the boy beside her, entirely unknown.
Too much. It was all too much.
Her muscles were straining. She wanted to run.
Phil was talking.
Phil was talking and he was doing that Phil thing she hated, that thing where the things he said were sweet and sincere and a little awkward in the best way, Phil speaking somehow past your mind and right to your heart, Phil making her relax again and feel at ease again, in a few short words making her feel safe again.
"So we should have a little to just decompress."
God, she wanted that. Not even taking the Lord's name in vain: it was half a prayer. She wanted to believe Phil. She wanted to sit, and rest.
"Okay."
Serenity banished in an instant. Terra's head snapped around, glaring at Mikki and her blaring, braying voice. The opposite of peace, the opposite of tranquility, the opposite of safety and security. She could never rest while this heathen was here. She could never-
"Okay, so."
And then, impossibly, Mikki was talking. And then, impossibly, Mikki was making sense. As though she could read Phil's mind, as though she could read Terra's mind, as though she knew how tired they were, how scared they were. As though she knew exactly what they needed to hear. As though she knew exactly what she needed.
Mikki? Was this really Mikki?
"So yeah, who's in?"
Terra stared at her. Her mouth twitched in disbelief. Bree spoke. The unknown boy spoke. All of them wanted rest. All of them wanted what she wanted. After unexpected terror, after fear and uncertainty...was it possible?
“Terra?" Terra looked up at Bree, soft and uncertain and terribly sweet. "Need your hand.”
Terra blinked. Her vision was blurry with tears. She coughed out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
"God, yes," she breathed.
(Terra Johnson continued in Children of Cain)
She shouldn't have stopped. She should never have stopped. No sooner did she stop then new dangers reared up from the closing evening. Dangers like Phil, always uncertain, and now that uncertainty was punctuated by the threat of violence. Dangers like Mikki, always repugnant, and if she had chosen over and over again to reject God's light then who knew what fresh sins she might commit? Dangers like Bree, too friendly, and she had seen what so-called friends might do on this island. Dangers like the boy beside her, entirely unknown.
Too much. It was all too much.
Her muscles were straining. She wanted to run.
Phil was talking.
Phil was talking and he was doing that Phil thing she hated, that thing where the things he said were sweet and sincere and a little awkward in the best way, Phil speaking somehow past your mind and right to your heart, Phil making her relax again and feel at ease again, in a few short words making her feel safe again.
"So we should have a little to just decompress."
God, she wanted that. Not even taking the Lord's name in vain: it was half a prayer. She wanted to believe Phil. She wanted to sit, and rest.
"Okay."
Serenity banished in an instant. Terra's head snapped around, glaring at Mikki and her blaring, braying voice. The opposite of peace, the opposite of tranquility, the opposite of safety and security. She could never rest while this heathen was here. She could never-
"Okay, so."
And then, impossibly, Mikki was talking. And then, impossibly, Mikki was making sense. As though she could read Phil's mind, as though she could read Terra's mind, as though she knew how tired they were, how scared they were. As though she knew exactly what they needed to hear. As though she knew exactly what she needed.
Mikki? Was this really Mikki?
"So yeah, who's in?"
Terra stared at her. Her mouth twitched in disbelief. Bree spoke. The unknown boy spoke. All of them wanted rest. All of them wanted what she wanted. After unexpected terror, after fear and uncertainty...was it possible?
“Terra?" Terra looked up at Bree, soft and uncertain and terribly sweet. "Need your hand.”
Terra blinked. Her vision was blurry with tears. She coughed out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
"God, yes," she breathed.
(Terra Johnson continued in Children of Cain)
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
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Grand Moff Hissa
- Posts: 2756
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
"Yeah," Phillip said. "Yeah, I'm in."
He didn't really say anything about pacts, because like blood pact, okay, that was pretty normal stuff to joke about, or at least normally abnormal. Mud and spit and kids in the context of pacts, though, that was heading into It territory, and man, Stephen King was pretty cool most of the time and It was a pretty good book and all but there was this one part that was really damn awkward and not at all what Phillip wanted to be thinking about here and now or really ever, like the only thing he could think of worse than reading it was having to wake up and know you wrote it and Stephen King could probably wipes his tears away with hundred dollar bills which tipped the scales a bit.
Putting all thought of unfortunate pacts aside, then, the plan was okay. Phillip still didn't deserve to be here, really, didn't deserve decent things happening to him, not now when horrible, awful, unspeakable things could be happening to Shauna and Danny and Nikki, but he could try to do better this time. He'd have to do better.
The village would be a good spot. Maybe he could use it as a base from which to find the others, and apologize, and make things right somehow, assuming they weren't dead. Maybe this could be the start of something bigger, a plan or a stand or.... something.
Bree went to work on Terra's hand. That was something too. Phillip was glad, even more than he was ashamed he couldn't be useful. They were calming down, they were working together, and they had direction.
Things wouldn't be okay, but they might be at least less impossible.
((Phillip Olivares continued in Children of Cain))
He didn't really say anything about pacts, because like blood pact, okay, that was pretty normal stuff to joke about, or at least normally abnormal. Mud and spit and kids in the context of pacts, though, that was heading into It territory, and man, Stephen King was pretty cool most of the time and It was a pretty good book and all but there was this one part that was really damn awkward and not at all what Phillip wanted to be thinking about here and now or really ever, like the only thing he could think of worse than reading it was having to wake up and know you wrote it and Stephen King could probably wipes his tears away with hundred dollar bills which tipped the scales a bit.
Putting all thought of unfortunate pacts aside, then, the plan was okay. Phillip still didn't deserve to be here, really, didn't deserve decent things happening to him, not now when horrible, awful, unspeakable things could be happening to Shauna and Danny and Nikki, but he could try to do better this time. He'd have to do better.
The village would be a good spot. Maybe he could use it as a base from which to find the others, and apologize, and make things right somehow, assuming they weren't dead. Maybe this could be the start of something bigger, a plan or a stand or.... something.
Bree went to work on Terra's hand. That was something too. Phillip was glad, even more than he was ashamed he couldn't be useful. They were calming down, they were working together, and they had direction.
Things wouldn't be okay, but they might be at least less impossible.
((Phillip Olivares continued in Children of Cain))
The first thing that occured to Mikki after she finished her tiny monologue was that these people weren't Forrest and Charelle. Forrest and Charelle were her best friends back home, her partners in crime, her fellow artists, the people she trusted more than anything in the world, yet as members of Zootopia they were fairly big pushovers and pretty much let her do all the work and come up with all the ideas. People could be anything in one aspect, from a mook to a boss, yet the moment it came down to the wire to make decisions, a lot of people just blew over and let the loudest voice do all the work.
These people weren't Forrest and Charelle, but she was in the same position anyway. Nobody had a better idea, so she came up with the only one, and they all agreed with it, supported it. She wasn't sure what it meant to be a leader on Murder Island, but she'd been a leader before. It all just meant translating skills, right?
The first part of the proposal was already going on, with Bree helping to fix up Terra's hand.
"Alright, if we're down, then...we're all down for this, cool."
Mikki nodded to nobody in particular.
"Okay, so lets get our stuff together, figure out what we've got to eat, and then figure out how we're going to sleep. That sound good with everyone?"
((Mikki Swift continued in Children of Cain))
These people weren't Forrest and Charelle, but she was in the same position anyway. Nobody had a better idea, so she came up with the only one, and they all agreed with it, supported it. She wasn't sure what it meant to be a leader on Murder Island, but she'd been a leader before. It all just meant translating skills, right?
The first part of the proposal was already going on, with Bree helping to fix up Terra's hand.
"Alright, if we're down, then...we're all down for this, cool."
Mikki nodded to nobody in particular.
"Okay, so lets get our stuff together, figure out what we've got to eat, and then figure out how we're going to sleep. That sound good with everyone?"
((Mikki Swift continued in Children of Cain))